Resident Evil Anthology
by Default Jane
Summary: This is a series of oneshots I've written based on prompts people have sent to me. Mostly Claire x Leon and Helena x Hunnigan-stories here. Each chapter is its own separate story. They aren't edited much after writing, meaning they'll probably leave a lot to be desired at least in some aspects. Regardless, I hope you'll find something you like here. Feedback is more than welcome!
1. Unsuccessfully coping with jealousy

**Author's note: This was a response to "jealousy isn't cute on you" sentence starter for CLeon.**

* * *

"For the last time, Leon, I'm not your lawyer, you should stop calling me when you're thrown in jail," Hunnigan said as she waited for him to collect his things so that they could exit the jailhouse.

"I'm sure your cat will forgive you for leaving him alone for twenty minutes despite it being a Friday night," Leon remarked a little more venomously than he'd intended to. Hunnigan stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him and he sighed, meaning to apologize but she spoke before he had a chance.

"You are the worst thing that has ever happened to me," Hunnigan said before crossing the parking lot with long agitated strides.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..!" he called out after her, but she was already gone, driving away and leaving him to find his own way home.

"Ah, shit," Leon exhaled and stuck his hands into his pockets, beginning the long walk home. His drunken state was wearing off and he was slipping from impervious to becoming painfully aware of how much his knuckles hurt. They rarely showed that side of this situation in movies. The lack of the massive punch-sound effect in real life was also disappointing.

When Leon finally got home, he was surprised to see that Claire was _not_ already packing his things into suitcases, or frantically throwing everything out into the yard and pouring gasoline on it. Instead, she sat on the couch in the living room and when she saw him, she turned the TV off and slowly crossed her arms over her abdomen while narrowing her eyes at him. It was a feminine but an oddly threatening gesture.

"You'll be glad to know that Neil decided not to press charges," Claire told him.  
"Well, remind me to send him a thank you-card," Leon said, spread his hands to the sides a little and took a series of tiny "I'm not worthy"-bows before going to the kitchen to grab a beer.

"Stop it, Leon, this is serious!" Claire said, got up and followed him. She grabbed the beer from his hand while he was in the middle of taking a sip. Some of it spilled onto his chin and dripped to the floor as the contents of the bottle foamed over as she yanked the bottle suddenly, but she didn't care.

"What the hell?" Leon frowned as Claire tossed the bottle into the sink and leaned in closer to him, her finger pointing into his chest.

"Do you even understand what the hell you did?" she snapped at him.  
"Yes, and that dipshit had it coming!"

"Why? What did he do? Did he remark on my tits or ass? Make lewd comment about what he'd like to do to me? What?" she demanded.  
"Well, yes, to all of it, basically!"

"Well, welcome to my world, I hear shit like that every day, it's called being a woman. But I don't go apeshit and beat up every idiot who makes remarks like that."  
"I bet you'd want to though."

"Yes, but that isn't the point!" Claire yelled in exasperation and shoved at him, turning to face away with her hands on her hips, shaking her head in disbelief.  
"Then tell me what is the point," Leon said, rubbing his palm over the spot on his chest where she'd poked him.

"The point is that I don't _need_ nor do I _want_ you to turn up and pretend to be some white knight who rescues me from the lewd remarks someone makes, I don't want that! If I need to, I can stand up for myself, and most of the time, I'd rather just ignore them," she scoffed.

"Or, maybe you don't mind the comments since they came from him."  
"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm just saying that it's usually called sexual harassment only when the guy making the remarks is unattractive, but bring out a douchebag in a chinstrap and suddenly it's called flirting," Leon said, his tone of voice the typical tone you'd hear from a child making the common "nya-nya"-taunt. Claire blinked slowly, her mouth slightly open as she tried to comprehend that Leon out of all people was behaving the way he was right now.

"Jealousy isn't cute on you."  
"Good, because I'm not trying to be cute!"

"Seriously, do you hear yourself… like… right now… when you're talking… do you hear the words coming out of your mouth, do you understand how ridiculous you sound?" Claire asked, speaking intentionally slowly as if indeed talking to a child.

"Mock all you want, but you know I'm right."  
"I am not getting into this argument with you," Claire sighed in exasperation.

"There is no argument because I'm right!"

"Sure. Fine. Whatever. Go take a shower and try to sleep it off. On the couch," Claire said in an icy tone over her shoulder as she left the kitchen and headed upstairs, slamming the bedroom door shut behind her so hard the glasses in the kitchen cupboard clinked.

Leon grabbed another beer now that Claire wasn't there to throw it out, and then proceeded to the living room, slumping onto the couch. Why should he be the one sleeping on the couch, it was his house too, damn it.

 _Yeah, but then again, I'm the jerk who beat up Claire's boss… but for a good reason… even if she denies it…_

He wasn't sure what part of him thought this could possibly be a good idea, but he was already doing before even realizing; he dialed Hunnigan's number. He had a question he wanted her to answer.

"Oh, my God, what!" she yelled at him as she accepted the video call.  
"I'm sorry."  
"You should be. For various reasons."

"Your towels are so fluffy! Why can't I get mine— oh, sorry, who you talkin' to?" a woman wearing nothing but a towel and a green necklace inquired as she walked across the frame, Leon getting a decent view of her figure but not her face before Hunnigan turned the phone so that he could see nothing but the ceiling.

"The reason I had to run out in the middle of dinner," Hunnigan responded.

"Tell him he's a dick," the other female voice said.  
"You're a dick," Hunnigan dutifully relayed the message.

"That was actually all I needed to hear because the reason I called was to ask you if I'm a dick," Leon said.  
"I'm amazed you thought there would be any other answer to that question. Good night," Hunnigan retorted and ended the call.

"Well, whaddaya know, she _did_ have a date," he chuckled at the dial tone.

"Aw, fuck," he then sighed and leaned back on the couch. He finished his beer in a few long gulps before heading into the bathroom to take that shower Claire had told him to take. Instead of feeling relaxed as the hot water washed away his mood, he was fuming.

 _I am_ not _sleeping on the couch._

Once done drying off, he went upstairs and slowly pushed the bedroom door open. He waited for a moment for his eyes to adjust to the deep blue darkness in the room and was half expecting to find Claire sitting on the bed with a shotgun aimed at him. Instead, she lay down, the covers pulled to her shoulder, hugging his pillow to her chest. Once upon a time she'd told him she'd begun to playfully refer to the pillow as Scott since she had a habit of cuddling it while he was away because it smelled of him.

 _You are so adorable it makes my chest ache,_ he thought, a small rueful smile on his lips. He got into bed and lay on his side, resting his weight on his forearm as he leaned a little closer to her.

"Claire… can I have my pillow back, please?" he whispered.  
"You're not even supposed to be here," she humphed and pulled as far from him as she possibly could without falling off the bed.

"Look, I'm sorry. I overreacted, and you're right, you don't need me to rescue you, I know that… but at the same time, there's a part of me that thinks… that you're my girl and that I should beat the living shit out of anyone who disrespects you. I know it's not as charming in real life as it is in movies, but…"

"Oh, so you were just defending my honor. Well, that makes it all better."  
"I'm not saying it does, I'm just saying that's what happened. Hearing him talk that way about you made me go a little a crazy."

"What did he even say?" Claire then asked, finally turning to face Leon and he cleared his throat awkwardly.  
"I'm not sure I feel comfortable repeating that."

"In other words he didn't say anything _that_ bad, you just blew it out of proportion," Claire said, quirking an eyebrow and Leon inhaled and exhaled deeply.  
"He was staring at your ass and said 'Damn, I'd like to cut that cake'."

"That's it?" Claire scoffed and Leon shrugged one shoulder. Hell, she'd heard worse in third grade.

"You are such a… I don't even know what you are," she shook her head and smacked him with the pillow.  
"I know, I know… I'm sorry. I really am," he said sincerely and put the pillow aside as she settled to lay on her back and sighed deeply as if trying to decide what to do with him.

"You're a good man, Leon, but sometimes you do the dumbest things for the stupidest little reasons. I really need you to work on that or I don't see how we're ever gonna make this work," she muttered.  
"I understand, and I promise to work on it."

"…all right," Claire said quietly, a hint of disbelief in her voice, clearly she wasn't going to believe it until she'd see it. Leon felt a bit hurt by the obvious mistrust, but at the same time he took it as an incentive to prove to her that he could and _would_ do it.

"All right," he said as well and finally lay down as well. They remained silent in the dim room for a long while and Leon was sure Claire had already fallen asleep when she finally reached over and put her arm over his midsection, pushing herself tightly against him. He raised his arm a little and put it around her shoulders, pulling her closer in the sweetheart's cradle and pressed a long soft kiss onto her forehead before resting his cheek against the top of her head. He closed his eyes and exhaled happily when he felt her breath on the side of his neck.

"Hey, Claire?"  
"Yes, Leon?"

"Hunnigan's girlfriend called me a dick."  
"Oh, poor you. Do you need me to defend your honor by kicking her ass?"

"No, but am I dick?"  
"Yeah, but you're my dick."

"…I can live with that."


	2. And his heart grew three sizes that day

**Author's note: This is a response to a holiday prompt starter "Awww, look at my little elf" for CLeon.**

* * *

Claire was the first to wake up in the morning which wasn't surprising considering how horrible Leon's sleeping pattern was... but also because she was quite the "kid on a Christmas morning". Leon didn't share her enthusiasm regarding the holiday, he was more the "bah, humbug!"-kind of a guy. This year, Claire had decided to practically take over his apartment and force Christmas on him, and by the time she was done with all the decorating, it looked like the North Pole had exploded all over his apartment.

Not that there was much ground to cover, he lived in a small place; the alcove in the living room where his bed was his bedroom, the kitchenette so small that you had to back out into the living room when you needed to bend over to take something out from the oven. The bathroom at least was nice and roomy.

Claire could see why he hadn't moved to a bigger place, it wasn't like he usually spent a lot of time at home. And what little time he did spend there, he was quite happy just lying on the bed watching TV, or sitting at the desk by the window if he needed to work on something on his computer, there was no need for excess room. As for the kitchenette, well, it was so immaculate Claire suspected he didn't spend a lot of time there.

This year, things were slightly different and the small apartment was cluttered with decorations Claire had brought over. Even Leon'd had to admit the Christmas lights she'd draped over the bookshelf did look nice and provided a soft illumination preferable to the harsh overhead lights. But he could've done without the tree. Small as it was, it was in his way, stuck between the area behind his chair at the desk and the tiny table next to the window, his dinner table as he liked to call it, so conveniently placed that all he had to do was spin around in his office chair and voilá, he was already at his dinner table. That was when he didn't just eat at his desk, which happened more times than he would've liked to admit.

Claire poured herself a cup of coffee and returned to the living room, taking a seat in the arm chair in front of the TV. She sat sideways, letting her legs dangle over the armrest and sipped the hot beverage in silence which was partially broken every now and then by the sound of Leon's sleepy breathing.

He turned to lie on his back, his arm tucked underneath the pillow for extra support, and he inhaled and exhaled deeply through his nose, still sound asleep. Claire grinned a little to herself and quirked an eyebrow when she noticed the bulge in his boxers, and an idea came to her.

 _I'm being childish,_ she mentally scolded herself as she went to open the drawer in the nightstand which was actually at the foot of the bed, and took out a box of condoms which, sadly, only had one left.

 _He's gonna be so mad,_ she mused, still determined to go ahead with her plan anyway. He'd be mad because it was the last one and he had to special order them from an online store since non-lubricated condoms were surprisingly difficult to come by at the average corner store, and he was allergic to the lubricants.

 _But it's gonna be so funny,_ Claire justified her wasteful deed, dug around in the drawer for a while longer to find a permanent marker and then slowly climbed onto the bed, straddling his legs. She was relatively certain he'd wake up before she'd get very far with her idea, but she decided to go for it regardless.

Claire tucked her fingertips underneath the waistband of his boxers and slowly began to tug them down and out of the way. It took her a while, but finally she got them halfway down his thighs without waking him. She reached to run her hand over his semi-hard manhood, slowly sliding her palm over it and back down. Leon inhaled deeply at the touch and she paused for a while to see if she'd woken him up, but he was still sound asleep.

 _Just a little more..._ she thought, suppressing a quiet laugh and went to wrap her hand around him. Length-wise he wasn't above the average, but when it came to width, it was quite the opposite. She wouldn't have gone as far as to nickname him beercan (frankly, a girth like that would've been too much and rather uncomfortable she imagined), but when he was fully erect, she wasn't able to wrap her entire hand around him; just enough to get the tip of her thumb and middle finger to touch.

Leon let out another sharp breath and shifted in the bed a little, turning his head to the side, a soft moan escaping his lips. She pulled back his foreskin, then held her hand still, gripping him for a while longer once more waiting to make sure he was still asleep before proceeding.

She opened the condom and slowly began to roll it over the tip of his penis. He stirred again, and Claire knew it wouldn't be long before she'd wake him, she had to hurry it up.

"Perfect," she mumbled to herself when she was done putting the condom on him and reached for the marker. She had to work slowly and carefully so it took a while longer than she would've preferred, but once she was done, she was rather happy with the result. She grabbed her phone to take a picture of her handiwork.

"Aww, look at my little elf," she couldn't stifle the quiet giggle that erupted from her when she looked at the picture of Leon's penis, decorated with a condom she'd drawn an elf costume on, the reddish tip of his manhood serving as the elf's hat, a scarf and a jacket drawn on the rest of his length.

"Claire? What are you doing?" Leon mumbled, his eyes barely half open.

"Making our Christmas card for next year," she informed him and turned the phone. He squinted and blinked a few times in the light emanating from the screen and it took him several seconds to realize what he was looking at.

"What the hell?" he scoffed and then turned to look down to see the real-life version of what he'd seen a photo of just now. "Oh, come on!" he sighed.

"Oh, you come on, it's funny," Claire said and put the phone away.  
"I'm pretty sure this counts as sexual assault of some kind," Leon grumbled and annoyedly pulled the condom off.

"Don't be such a grouch," Claire rolled her eyes at him and moved away from straddling his legs, sitting sideways on the bed instead.  
"How would you feel if I did something like this to you?" he muttered.

"I'd love to see you try."  
"Fine, the next time you're asleep, I'm drawing a clown face on your boobs."

"All right, all right... I'm sorry. I thought it was funny, I didn't mean to upset you, and if it makes you feel better, then go ahead and draw clown faces on my boobs," she apologized and he scoffed amusedly, sitting up as well. He reached for her phone and took another look at the photo she'd taken.

"Well... I suppose it is kinda funny," he then admitted, smiling a little.

"Right?" she chuckled and turned to kiss his shoulder before nuzzling the side of his neck and his earlobe. "I'll make it up to you," she promised then in a breathy whisper and he shivered, his skin rising to goosebumps at the feel of her breath brushing against his ear.

"Is that so?"  
"Definitely," Claire murmured and put her hand over his cheek, turning his head toward herself so that she could capture his lips into a soft kiss.

"I bet you're promising only because you know that was the last condom and it's Christmas so it will take forever before I can get more of them," he said after breaking the kiss and quirked an eyebrow.  
"There's other things we can do," she shrugged innocently, resting her head on his shoulder as she ran her hand down along his chest and to his abdomen.

"As long as it doesn't count as my Christmas present," he grinned and she chuckled softly, her hand venturing over to his thigh, her touch a light warm caress as she teased him for a while longer before slowly sliding off the bed and settling on her knees on the floor.

Leon let out a deep exhale and reached to gather her hair into his hand to keep it out of the way and to enjoy the view as she let her mouth glide along the shaft of his manhood, curling her tongue over the sensitive flesh as she did so, slowly making her way up and pausing to lightly suck on the tip before going down the other side.

Finally, she wrapped her fist around his length, her lips shortly following the example, enclosing tightly around the head of his cock. Leon leaned back, resting his weight on his left arm and inhaled sharply at the wet softness that engulfed him, contrasted by the sweet friction of her tongue as is lashed against his sensitive spots that otherwise would've remained out of reach.

He groaned, having to throw his head back and close his eyes when she sucked on him harder, her hand stroking a little faster.

"Claire," he breathed and that was all the warning he was able to give before he came. She slowly eased her grip on him and ceased the movement of her hand once he'd finished, the last drops of the somewhat salty fluid spilled over her tongue.

Claire liked the way he tasted, always had. Contrary to how a lot of people seemed to feel, she didn't consider giving oral to a man any more degrading than she would've felt doing the same to another woman. It was something she wanted to do and enjoyed doing.

She admitted, she would've felt differently if she'd had to force herself to go through with it just because an idiotic boyfriend insisted on it, she'd been there and done that. But with Leon, it was a pleasure.

He was a good man, and a gentle, dedicated lover. A rarity if there ever was one... or then it was just how they worked together; perhaps the other boyfriends she'd had in the past had seemed like selfish brats because they hadn't known what to do with her and she hadn't known how to tell them what she wanted. With Leon, that had never been a problem.

He settled to lie back on the bed and she went next to him, snuggling into his side with her arm around his midsection as he pulled the covers over them.

"I love you," he mumbled against the top of her head, nuzzling her hair.  
"I love you too, Leon."

"I think I'm beginning to enjoy Christmas," he then said, running his hand over her side and she chuckled.

"I'm glad I'm finally beginning to rub off on you," Claire said and bent her leg a little at the knee, moving so that he had more room for his hand which had made its way down over her hip and was now resting on the inside of her thigh.

"Oh, you definitely are..." he said quietly, his fingertips softly tickling her skin and she waited patiently for about two seconds before raising her hips off the mattress, pressing herself against his forearm for some contact while his hand still lingered somewhere near her knee.

"Ah, so that's how it's going to be," Leon grinned.  
"Yes, and if you continue teasing me, I'm taking away one of your presents," she threatened him and moved to get rid of her underwear and dropping them onto the floor.

"I'd better be nice then," he said and flattened his palm between her legs, slowly rubbing against her with his hand before continuing only with his index finger and the middle finger, sliding them down on each side of her clit with gentle pressure.

She ran her hand through his hair and gently gripped the back of his neck, pulling him closer and kissed him deeply as he eased the two fingers inside her, letting the side of this thumb to rub over her clit, curling the fingers within her, looking for the sensitive spot he knew was there.

Claire inhaled sharply and her back arched when he found it and pressed against it, slowly beginning to flick his fingertip over it as she pushed harder against his hand. After a while, Leon shifted on the bed, and Claire reluctantly let him go, his hand between her legs, only now unmoving as he focused his attention elsewhere, settling lower on the bed, leaving behind a trail of wet kisses over her chest and abdomen as he moved.

Claire pushed herself further up on the bed, the pillows piling against the wall allowing her a comfortable position as he went to lie down on his belly, settling between her legs, his unshaven cheek scratching the inside of her thigh as he kissed the soft skin before turning his attention to her clit. He flattened his tongue against it, enclosing his lips around her and sucked gently as he let the full width of his tongue to slide over her. Claire raised her hips once more, pushing against his mouth and he adjusted to her rhythm, letting his tongue grind against her a little harder.

Not long after that, she went stiff, her abdomen and her chest heaving in waves as her breathing became deeper and more frantic. She trembled and let out a series of loud yet soft moans when she peaked and he could feel her clench around his fingers as her release left her shuddering and whimpering. Leon eased her back from the edge gently, slowing his pace as the aftershocks began to fade little by little and Claire sunk back into the mattress.

Leon moved to lie down next to her and she turned to her side, nuzzling into his throat and held onto him tightly.

"Are you still mad at me for wasting the last condom?" she then asked, smiling and Leon chuckled softly.

"Mad? No. But I will withold sex to teach you a lesson," he smirked, as if he'd had any other options. She wasn't on the pill and neither one of them was willing to risk trusting him to pull out in time. As much as he did enjoy giving and receiving oral or handjobs, it wasn't the same as making love, and he had to admit he really, really wished he would've purchased more condoms the last time. Or that Claire hadn't decided to play with the last one.

"Aw, that's a shame," Claire grinned and sat up slowly, climbed out of the bed and went to the tiny plastic Christmas tree she'd forced into Leon's apartment. She knelt down and went through the few gifts that were placed underneath it and picked up one adressed to Leon.

"Open it," she smiled and he sat up on the edge of the bed, his eyebrow quirked.  
"You didn't," he said suspiciously as he began to undo the decorative string around the gift.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," she shrugged innocently.  
"My brand!" he exclaimed happily as he dug out a box of condoms from the wrapping paper.

"Well, to be honest, it's a gift for myself as much as it is for you," Claire grinned.  
"It's just what I wanted," he smiled.

"Good thing you were on the nice-list, huh?" she said and straddled his thighs, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissed him deeply.

"Actually, since we're opening presents early, I have one that's really for both of us too," Leon murmured into the kiss, put his arms around her and hugged her tightly to himself for a moment before once more loosening his grip to be able to let her move off of his lap so that he could go pick up the present. He returned shortly and sat cross-legged on the bed, Claire mirroring his position.

"Open it," he encouraged quietly with a smile and Claire did as she was told, pausing to give him the "are you serious?" semi-glance and quirked eyebrow when she uncovered a black velvet ring box.

"Now, allow me to make a couple of excuses based on the feedback I got from Hunnigan, who was absolutely no help at all when I tried getting a woman's opinion..."  
"Of course she wasn't, how's she supposed to know what I would like?" Claire smirked and Leon nodded.

"That's what she said... and then she made a negative remark about the size of the stone..." he began, a vivid mental image of the situation flashing through his mind; Hunnigan adjusting and then readjusting her glasses and squinting hard in an exaggerated manner to let him know she obviously thought the diamonds were too small.

"...I told her I'd get bigger diamonds if she'd negotiate a better salary for me, that shut her up," he then chuckled and Claire did too, the ring box still unopened in her hand.  
"Leon... what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that this is probably tacky, and not much better a way to surprise than hiding the ring in a baked potato over dinner or something... but, I love you, and we've known each other for a long time and we've been through so much, and... I really can't imagine my life without you, I sure as hell don't want to live it without you—okay, no, that came out a bit wrong, but..." he stammered and Claire smiled. He was cute when he got flustered.

"What I'm saying is... will you marry me?" he asked slowly and waited for her to finally open the box.  
"First of all..." she began and took the ring from the box. It was an elegant ring in its simplicity, a thin white gold band with four diamonds set in the middle.

"...I wouldn't have even wanted ridiculously big diamonds, those would get in my way and I think they're tacky," she finished her sentence and put the ring into his hand. For a while he was worried that was her way of rejecting him, but then he realized she was expecting him to do the honors.

"Secondly, of course I'll marry you. You're a good man, Leon, and I love you, and to borrow your words... I can't imagine my life without you either," she said, and held out her hand and he slid the ring on her finger.

Claire then moved closer to him, once more straddling his lap and he held her close, both of them still and simply enjoying the embrace and warmth of their bodies pressed together.

"I love Christmas," Leon exhaled happily and nuzzled the side of Claire's neck, and she burst out laughing.


	3. Tis better to give

**Author's note: This is a response to two prompts: "there's my little elf for hunnigan and tripod" and "my gingerbread house is prettier than yours for Leon and Helena who met at a x-mas baking workshop without knowing that the other was there."**

* * *

December 19th, 2013

"Geez, go back to driving school, kid," Helena muttered to a young man who almost ran into her shopping cart as he emerged from between the aisles without looking. Shaking her head, Helena continued on, beginning to feel like an old Grinch because she was quickly growing to hate Christmas time about as much as the notorious green creature had. She was certain that she'd find herself sneaking into people's houses to steal their presents by Christmas day.

"Oh, hello," Helena said when she saw a familiar woman pushing a cart.  
"Helena, hi! Almost didn't notice you," Hunnigan chuckled, visibly preoccupied with the long list she was reading from.

"I see you're going to be spoiling your kids… or nieces and nephews," Helena smiled, nodding toward Hunnigan's cart that was filled with stuffed toys, Legos, coloring books, crayons and other things for children.

"Oh, no, no, no, I don't have any kids; I'm donating these to a charity which'll distribute them underpriviledged kids," Hunnigan explained and Helena tilted her head back, her mouth open in a silent "ah, okay" when she understood.

"I've still gotta pick up a few gift cards to a clothing store. Buying clothes for someone else's children is difficult enough as it is, never having met the kid makes it even harder," she chuckled.  
"Wow, that's… just… really sweet of you."

"Yeah, well, it's not like I'm single-handedly saving the kids, but I hope it makes a difference at least to whoever end up receiving these," Hunnigan shrugged.  
"I know it does, I've been that kid," Helena said.

"Really?"  
"Yeah, we were a good family, but broke as fuck… excuse my French," Helena chuckled awkwardly and Hunnigan smiled.

"It's fine. And I'm glad to hear that I am making a difference, sometimes it's hard to know because I don't personally go delivering things to people, _that_ is something I don't have the time for," Hunnigan said and began to head toward the checkout, Helena deciding to tag along.

"So, you do this every year?" she inquired.  
"I do this whenever I can," Hunnigan answered.

"I never knew…"  
"Why would you have known? Frankly, I can't stand the types of people who make a big deal out of what little good they do. You know the types who donate five bucks to a homeless person once a year and then bring it up in every conversation they can for weeks and go on as if the people in need of help just stop existing for the rest of the year, but what do they care, they've done their part, right?" Hunnigan smirked dryly and Helena scoffed a little.

"I know the type you mean," she nodded. "Hey, Hunnigan… even though technically it would make me one of those types, how about you let me buy myself a clear conscience for a year and let me buy those gift cards for the charity," she then suggested.

"It's not like you need to ask for my permission," Hunnigan chuckled quietly.  
"I know, but you'll know where to deliver them and stuff…" Helena trailed off somewhat awkwardly.

"So, any plans for the holidays?" she then changed the subject, "Visiting your family or something?"

"No, my parents are spending the holidays in Brazil, that was my dad's and my gift to mom, she's always wanted to go there, her parents were originally from there, but immigrated to the U.S. before mom was born," Hunnigan explained as she began to unload the cart.

"So, you're gonna be alone? That sounds depressing. Well, I mean… it's not like I have any better plans either. I was actually thinking about booking a hotel room for the holidays and just do nothing but soak in a bath and enjoy a king-sized bed," Helena smiled.

"That sounds like a plan," Hunnigan said, "And yeah, I guess being alone for Christmas sounds pathetic, but I'm used to being alone and I kind of enjoy it really. Besides, I've got my cats. Okay, that sounded even more pathetic," she then smirked, and Helena laughed softly.

"Maybe just a little," she agreed.

* * *

December 20th Hunnigan was busy wrapping up the gifts she'd bought earlier. It would've been done by now if it weren't for her cat, Tripod, who kept settling to lay on top of the wrapping paper or stole the wrapping string whenever Hunnigan looked away for more than two seconds.

"Aww, look at my little elf," Hunnigan scoffed amusedly when she got out from the bathroom to discover that Tripod had once again dragged the string out from the living room all the way to the foyer and rolled in it, effectively wrapping himself up. She'd just finished untangling the cat when there was a knock on the door.

Hunnigan frowned, wondering who it could be, she wasn't supposed to be meeting anyone today. It was probably Ms. Deaux from upstairs, she'd already been at Hunnigan's door twice today, and it wasn't even noon yet. The first time she'd asked to borrow a baking sheet, then she'd come back ten minutes later to borrow an egg to use for the egg wash. Maybe now she needed a brush.

 _Or the fillings from my teeth,_ Hunnigan grumbled internally as she answered the door.

"Helena. What a surprise."  
"Hi! Sorry, I should've called ahead, but the idea came to me kind of ex tempore and my phone's dead, so… but I brought lunch!" Helena said and held up a bag from the Chinese restaurant around the corner.

"I never realized you were Jewish," Hunnigan grinned. Helena didn't get the reference and promptly informed Hunnigan she was Catholic, but not the serious church-going kind.  
"Well, come in," Hunnigan then invited and stepped aside to allow Helena entrance.

"Thank you," she smiled and got in, pausing shortly after when she noticed the Siamese cat staring up at her with his slightly crossed deep blue eyes.  
"And who's this handsome little guy?" Helena asked and knelt to pet him. Only then she realized the cat was missing his right front paw.

"His name is Tripod," Hunnigan began and Helena turned to look at her slowly, the expression on her face what you might expect to receive if you'd just shot someone's children right in front of them.

"Well, what else are you gonna call something that has only three legs?" Hunnigan reasoned.

"What happened to his paw?" Helena asked and chuckled softly when Tripod rose to lean to her knee and pushed his head against her chin, a soft purr emanating from him. She returned the affection by nuzzling the top of his head and he rewarded her with a lick on the tip of her nose.

"He was abandoned as a kitten and rats ate his paw. Ironic, huh?"  
"Poor kitty," Helena commented and picked him into her arms and cuddled him.

"Yeah, he had a tough youth, but he's still a sweet, special little guy," Hunnigan said, and gestured toward the kitchen. Helena let the cat go and grabbed the food, heading over to the kitchen with Hunnigan.

"I really am sorry I just turned up like this, I didn't mean to intrude."  
"Intrude what?" Hunnigan laughed, "I wasn't planning on doing anything. Well, other than wrapping up gifts and delivering them over to the center so they can give them out tomorrow."

"Can I help?" Helena asked as she unpacked the food.  
"Sure, if you want to. God knows Tripod hasn't been any help," Hunnigan said. He meowed at her as if to protest. She bent down to pet his head and then went to grab the utensils from the drawer, but Helena shook her head.

"I've got these," she said and clicked the chopsticks against each other.  
"Oh, cool. I never learned how to use those," Hunnigan confessed and took a seat.

"It's easy. I can teach you."  
"I've heard others say that before, yet, here we are," Hunnigan smiled and held up her fork before digging into the food.

"Well, let me know if you change your mind."

They ate and chatted, and Helena quickly learned that Hunnigan was quite the philanthropist, and in addition to being involved with charities helping kids and volunteering regularly at a local soup kitchen, she also gave a temporary home to rescued cats that needed a place to stay while waiting to be adopted.

"Why cats?" Helena inquired.  
"They don't need as much attention and care as dogs do, which is good because sometimes I get stuck at work for long hours," Hunnigan explained.

"Ah, of course." Helena nodded. "So, basically you're like a foster mom for cats."  
"Hah! Somehow that sounds even worse than the typical crazy cat lady-comment I get."

"It kind of does, yes," Helena agreed. "How do you have the time for all this?"

"I don't have a life," Hunnigan smirked.  
"Oh, come on," Helena scoffed.

"No, really. But I like my life as it is, contrary to what people seem to think. And by people, I mean my mother. As far as she's concerned, one's worth in life is measured by having a husband and at least one kid. So, since I have neither, my time isn't as valuable as my older sister's is."

"That sounds a bit unfair."  
"I'm sorry."

"No, I meant, unfair toward you. Your time is just as valuable and you're making a better use of it than most people are. You're a good person, Hunnigan."  
"Thanks, I try," Hunnigan chuckled and actually felt herself blush a little.

A while later they'd finished eating and headed into the living room (where Tripod lay on the wrapping paper and patted the roll of wrapping string back and forth) to finish with the gifts.

It didn't take very long despite Tripod's best efforts to stall them, and once they were done, they packed them into bags. Helena offered to give Hunnigan a ride and she accepted the offer.

"So, now that today's good deed is done, would you like to go out for a drink or something?" Helena asked once the presents had been delivered.  
"Oh, um, I don't drink."

"…of course you don't, what was I thinking?" Helena smirked and Hunnigan chuckled a little. "Well, let me buy you a soda then?"  
"Something tells me you don't want to go home," Hunnigan pointed out as she put on her seatbelt and Helena started the car.

"You're right, there's no beer at home," Helena winked.

Not long after that, Hunnigan found herself sitting at a table in the nearby pub, waiting for Helena to join her after getting the drinks. She chuckled when she saw the younger woman had gone the extra mile and gotten her soda decorated with a crazy straw shaped like a bell.

"How festive," she remarked.  
"They didn't have any sparklers, I would've gotten those in there too otherwise," Helena said and took a seat at the small round table.

"This is wonderful as it is, thank you," Hunnigan assured and took a sip of the cherry coke Helena had brought for her. "So, did you go through with your plan to spend the holidays in a hotel and book a room?" she then inquired.

"Hah, no, you're looking at my holiday plans right now," Helena smiled, raised the pint and gave a tiny nod before taking a drink from it.

"Would you like to come over to my place for Christmas dinner? I mean, it's nothing fancy, just some chicken and mashed potatoes and maybe pecan pie… unless of course, you'd prefer drinking beer here," Hunnigan then suggested and Helena smiled.

"I would love to come over. Can I bring something to the table? I mean, I can't cook or bake to save my life, but…"  
"Shame, I really wanted a super fancy gingerbreadhouse," Hunnigan teased, "Bring your own beer," she then shrugged, and Helena chuckled softly.

"I promise to figure it out some day and I'll bring you an entire gingerbread mansion. Until then… thank you for the invitation, I would be happy to come over," Helena said.  
"Excellent. You can come by at any time, it won't take me long to cook that little dinner."

"Okay," Helena nodded and took another sip of her beer before leaning back in her chair and clearing her throat a little. She had something she wanted to know, but she wasn't sure if it would be appropriate to ask about a thing like that, especially when there was a chance that she could be wrong about her assumption.

 _Ah, what the hell,_ she thought and decided to go for it.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask you something, and you are, of course, not obligated to tell me, but… what happened?"  
"Excuse me?" Hunnigan's eyebrows rose, then lowered into a frown when she tried to understand the question. Helena scratched the back of neck awkwardly and shrugged a little.

"Well, usually people who devote their lives to helping others have a guilty conscience. Unless they are nuns, and I've never seen you in a habit, so… I was just wondering what happened to you. And don't tell me it's nothing because I won't believe you," Helena quirked an eyebrow and Hunnigan sighed, shaking her head a little.

"I can afford it, if more people who can would do the same, maybe things would be nicer in this world," Hunnigan offered her the cop-out explanation and Helena rolled her eyes.  
"Okay, why can you afford it? Are you in charge of some huge trustfund full of blood money, is that it?" she teased and now it was Hunnigan's turn to roll her eyes at the ridiculousness.

"All right, story time then," she sighed, and Helena leaned closer, resting her chin in the cup of her hand.

"Before transferring to the agency which later became the DSO, I was in the Air Force. And among other things I did during my time there, I piloted drones, mostly just surveillance stuff, kind of boring really, but it paid pretty well."

"And then something not-so-boring happened," Helena assumed and took a drink, and Hunnigan nodded.

"Long story short, I bombed a wedding. I mean, going in, I didn't know it was a wedding, but that doesn't make it better, nor does it change the fact that I did it anyway, because that was my job and they were the bad guys and… you know how the typical excuses go," Hunnigan shared.

"I can relate. When I was in the army, I was a helicopter pilot and a gunner, and sometimes... opening fire on people who may or may not be just a group of peaceful farmers who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time wasn't exactly what I signed up for..." Helena trailed off, and Hunnigan offered a rueful smile.

She knew Helena was aware of what it was like to watch the smoke clear and see a mess of bodyparts scattered over the impact zone, local emergency workers rushing over to the scene to fight a losing battle against death. They both knew it wasn't something you walked away from without getting nightmares, no matter what the excuses and what the politics dictated. At least, not if you had any kind of a conscience. And as bad as she felt afterward, she imagined it didn't even begin to compare to how awful it had to be to those who'd lost friends and loved ones that day.

"I know, I've read your file," Hunnigan said quietly.

"Oh, right," Helena chuckled awkwardly, not even sure she wanted to know just how detailed it was and what it might have revealed of her mental state. Probably nothing too alarming or she wouldn't be here casually chatting with Hunnigan.

"So… turned out I couldn't really handle what I'd done and seen, developed a little drinking problem for a while there… like one does in such situations, call me a cliché," Hunnigan smirked and shrugged, "…and eventually I figured it out, cleaned up my act, and here we are," she then finished her story.

"I don't know why, but I can't imagine you drunk, like… at all," Helena shook her head a little and took another sip of her beer, pausing for a moment to wonder if she was being inconsiderate, and judging from the way Hunnigan burst out laughing at the little hesitation, it was visible.

"Believe me, others' drinking around me doesn't bother me, so don't worry about that."  
"All right-y," Helena mumbled into her pint.

"Secondly, I was a high-functioning alcoholic, so you wouldn't have known I was drunk anyway. At least I really like to think so," Hunnigan smirked.  
"Thanks for telling me about all that," Helena then said.

"Thanks for asking, nobody else ever has. Well, aside from my psychiatrist, but you can't really pay someone to take a genuine interest."  
"True and true, I think my shrink spends half of the sessions filling out crossword puzzles."

* * *

December 21st.

Helena knew Hunnigan had made the comment in jest, but she couldn't resist at least trying. As she was exiting the store with the supplies, she spotted an ad for a "Christmas baking workshop" specializing in exactly what Helena needed help with, the note stating that someone had cancelled and that their spot was open for half the price.

"Well, if this ain't a sign from God, I don't know what is," she mumbled to herself and dug out her phone to dial the number posted in the note. After getting the necessary information, she made her way over to where the class was held. She walked in and stopped in her tracks when she spotted a familiar face in the crowd of other evidently inadept chefs.

"What are you doing here?" Leon asked, seeming equally surprised at her turning up.  
"My taxes. What do you think I'm doing here?" she scoffed and decided to take up the free spot next to him just to tease him.

"I'm just saying, I never took you for the kind of a gal who'd be into this stuff," Leon shrugged, and Helena chuckled.  
"Right back atcha."

"I wanted to surprise Claire. She's crazy about Christmas, she literally started putting up the Christmas decorations at midnight when it turned December first."  
"And I take it you're the Ebenezer Scrooge of the household," Helena commented, and he nodded.

"Something like that. You never told me the reason you're here. Unless I really was wrong, and you actually are into this stuff."  
"Well, I too wanted to surprise someone," Helena shrugged.

"Would that someone happen to be a tall, blue-eyed intelligence officer?" Leon snickered quietly as he set up his station, and Helena frowned at him.  
"What makes you think that?" she asked, and he barely kept from bursting out in laughter.

"Oh, come on. You are so transparent."  
"I seriously have no freaking idea what you're talking about."

"All right, you don't have to tell me," he held his hands up in a surrendering gesture and before she could continue interrogating him further, the wannabe-Martha Stewart in charge of the class informed her students that it was time to get started.

Helena rolled out the pre-made dough and proceeded to use the provided cardboard cut outs to shape the walls and chimney for the house. So far so good, she was almost tempted to congratulate herself for not having managed to mess things up so far. Of course, they'd only just gotten started, but knowing herself, anything could've happened within the first ten seconds.

Once upon a time, she'd somehow managed to set her stove on fire, the incident most peculiar because she hadn't actually had anything on the stove at the time. She still didn't know why it had happened. Anyone else would've been tempted to blame it on the stove, but knowing herself, Helena wasn't willing to dismiss the possibility of being the culprit herself.

"Now, do remember that this is just a quick class to show you the basic principle of how this is done, you need a lot more time to build the actual house that you can then use as…"  
"Wait, what?" Helena's head snapped up.

"Yes, it takes an average of two or three days to build a decent gingerbread house from scratch, one that won't just fall apart the moment you put the roof and decorations on it, you need to wait for the icing to harden, and…"

"Ain't nobody got time for that!" Helena and Leon exclaimed in unison and then glanced at each other, stifling a laugh at their own reaction.  
"I'm sorry if there's been a misunderstanding, all this was stated clearly in the brochure…" the instructor trailed off and Helena sighed.

"No, I'm sorry, you're right, I misunderstood. Please, continue," Helena gave up.

She still had a couple of days to do this again, properly… provided she actually managed to learn anything here today. Once the cookies were done and cooled off, it was time to put the icing into a pastry bag and start gluing the pieces together with it. It looked a lot easier than it was, and a lot of the time spent building the house was actually spent waiting for the icing to dry enough for the pieces to stick… or in Helena's case, a lot of the time was wasted just struggling to fill the damn pastry bag in the first place.

"Now, ideally, we would wait at least an hour before putting on the roof, but since we only have a couple of hours, use the canned goods you'll find at your stations to support the walls with," the instructor said. Leon and Helena glanced at each other again.

"What a rip off," Leon whispered.  
"I was just about to say the same. What am I doing here, I could've just looked this up online," Helena scolded herself.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I feel just as dumb," Leon confessed as he put the cans in place and began putting the chimney together and then placed the roof-pieces ontop of the house.

"When you're doing this at home, wait at least eight hours before decorating so that the house won't just collapse underneath the weight of the icing and candy. For now, let's just do minimal decorating, but when you're doing this at home later, let your imagination run wild," the instructor said and something about her overly cheerful manner and voice was beginning to irritate Helena even further.

"My gingerbread house is prettier than yours," Leon said, and Helena quirked an eyebrow.  
"Yeah, well… my hair is prettier than yours!" she scoffed, and Leon inhaled sharply in shock.

"How… dare… you!"

"All right, all right, I'm sorry, I take it back, it wasn't even true, I was just trying to hurt you," Helena then said and as if this were a moment from a cheesy comedy, her gingerbread house collapsed underneath the weight of the roof at that exact second, like the universe had just decided to punish her for her words.

When the class finally ended about twenty minutes later, Leon decided to walk out with Helena, only he was carrying his gingerbread house with him, his creation still in one piece.

"Well, that was a waste of time," Helena sighed as they walked toward the parking lot.  
"Speak for yourself."

"One more remark out of you and I'll kick your pretty little house into pieces. Don't think that I won't," Helena warned him, and he nodded to indicate he understood and agreed.

"And what the hell did you mean with that comment you made earlier?" she then demanded to know. Leon took a moment to put his house into the backseat of his car and into safety before answering her question.  
"I've just noticed that you act like a little girl with a crush on the teacher when you're around Hunnigan."

"I do not!" Helena guffawed in disbelief.  
"Oh, please, I'm surprised you haven't started leaving apples on her desk," Leon taunted.

"You're an idiot."  
"And you've got a crush on Hunnigan. You're flirting with her all the time."

"What! That doesn't even…" Helena started to say but Leon held up his hand to interrupt her.

"You do the hair flip, you're constantly touching her arm or the small of her back… if she made jokes, I bet you'd laugh a little louder than was necessary," he smirked and crossed his arms over his abdomen as he finished making his point.

"I...!" Helena began to argue, but now that she was thinking about it, she realized he was right.  
"…you mean… you didn't know?" he frowned at her then.

"Obviously not!"  
"How the hell do you not know a thing like that?" he scoffed, and she could not think of an answer.

"Probably because you're actually wrong, I'd think I would know if I had a crush on Hunnigan," Helena smirked, and Leon shrugged.  
"I suppose you're right, of course you'd know," he smirked back at her, and she narrowed her eyes at his obvious disbelief and sarcasm.

"I've gotta get going. Happy holidays," he then smiled and got into his car.  
"Yeah, yeah, you too, Leon," she responded.

 _Ridiculous. Utter nonsense. Just stupid,_ she grumbled internally as she drove home. Unfortunately for her, the longer she kept thinking about it, the more she began to accept he hadn't been making it up just for the hell of it.

"Oh, God," she sighed when she finally got to bed and realized she'd been thinking about Hunnigan the entire day, even long before Leon had brought it up.

"Oh, God!" she groaned again and buried herself deeper under the blanket.

 _Maybe if I ignore it, it'll go away._

* * *

Christmas day, 2013.

"Wow! That's… I mean, you _do_ realize I was joking?" Hunnigan said when she answered the door and found Helena standing there with a gingerbread house on a plate in her hands and a plastic bag hanging from her forearm.

"Oh, I know, but I wanted to, and it was no trouble," she lied. Honestly, this was her fourth attempt, and even still, it left a few things to be desired.  
"That's really sweet of you, thank you," Hunnigan said and accepted the plate from Helena, and the younger woman stepped inside.

"And these are for Tripod. I don't know what he likes, but I figured I'd give it a shot," she then said and dug out four boxes of different flavored kitty treats from the bag. Hunnigan didn't even have to say anything; the moment the treats rattled in their boxes, the sound of Tripod hobbling over in a hurry could be heard from the living room.

"I think there's your answer," Hunnigan chuckled when the cat arrived into the foyer and went to press his side against Helena's legs and rubbed against her shin purring loudly.

Helena took a moment to pet the cat and then followed Hunnigan into the kitchen, Tripod still following her.

"I got a little something for you too. Well, kind of. I know I told you to bring your own beer, but I wanted to treat you. Good thing I did, seeing as you didn't bring any beer," Hunnigan smirked over her shoulder.  
"Oh, yeah, well, I wasn't planning on drinking," Helena mumbled. _Because I'm scared I'll get drunk and blurt out something stupid,_ she added mentally.

"You don't have to feel self-conscious about drinking in front of me just because I don't drink," Hunnigan assured and put the gingerbread house onto the table and then turned her attention to the pot on the stove. It had milk and cinnamon in it, and it was slowly beginning to simmer.

"That's not…" Helena began to say, but decided not to continue further. Telling her the real reason why she didn't want to risk getting intoxicated wasn't an option either.  
"It's okay, really," Hunnigan said and added some chocolate, sugar and a pinch of salt into the pot.

"All right…" Helena said somewhat awkwardly and took a seat at the kitchen table, Tripod keeping her company while Hunnigan busied herself with the chocolate-y cocktail. The cat stood on his hind legs, resting his weight on his paw as he leaned against Helena's thigh and reached his head up toward her, letting out a quiet mewl to get her attention. She smiled and lowered her hand to pet him and scratch behind his ears.

Hunnigan added a generous amount of bourbon into the hot chocolate and stirred it all together before filling a mug with the drink and topped it off with tiny marshmallows.

"Try it, it's amazing. Feel free to add more bourbon if it's not strong enough, it's hard to tell without tasting," Hunnigan then smirked.  
"You're right, it is amazing, and definitely strong enough," Helena smiled after taking a sip.

"Dinner's gonna be a while longer, feel free to go ahead and relax in the living room while you wait if you want," Hunnigan then suggested.

"I'd rather stay here, it's easier to chat. Besides, it appears that I've been run over by a cat and can't move," Helena joked when Tripod hopped up to her lap and settled to lie down.

"So… about you not drinking, did something happen?"

"How do you mean?" Hunnigan asked.  
"Usually something dramatic happens that makes a person realize they have a problem. Like they drive drunk and run over someone, or something like that, so was that the case with you or did you just decide that enough was enough," Helena elaborated and took another sip of the sweet cocktail.

"Oh, that! No, I didn't kill anyone because of drunken recklessness, but, yes, there was a day when I woke up, feeling hungover and rather miserable enough as it was, and then I realized I'd passed out in a pool of vomit."  
"Ouch," Helena hissed through clenched teeth, and Hunnigan chuckled.

"Oh, that was the neat part. When I got up from the floor, I discovered that I'd actually left behind a series of… well, puke puddles leading from the front door to the bedroom floor where I'd passed out. When I got to the bathroom, I found my clothes in a pile in the tub, also covered in vomit, obviously… and at some point, I had apparently grabbed the shower curtain to try and pull myself up from the floor, because the whole thing had come down, the rod and everything."

"…that's…" Helena began to mutter slowly, but couldn't think of anything to add to it.

"Yeeeaaah… it wasn't flattering," Hunnigan chuckled, "I was lucky I didn't pass out while lying on my back or I probably would've drowned in my own vomit. And that's the story of why I quit drinking. Not exactly an attractive mental image, is it?"

"Well, the important thing is you did something about it," Helena said.  
"I suppose. After I quit, I realized that most of my 'friends' were actually drinking buddies rather than friends, and little by little I fell out of contact with everyone and had a lot more free time in my hands, so I started to volunteer at charities, and here we are," Hunnigan finished her story.

"Regardless of how you ended up where you are today, I think what you do is great. You're an amazing woman, Hunnigan," Helena said and immediately grunted after letting that slip.

 _How much bourbon is in this?_ she frowned at the mug in her hand, already knowing it wasn't the booze talking. _Damn you, Leon, why did you have to tell me?_ she then sighed internally.

"It's nothing, it's not like I'm rescuing kittens and babies out of burning buildings," Hunnigan chuckled, apparently unaware of the intended depth of the compliment, "but thank you," she then smiled.

* * *

 _I have made a huge mistake_ , Helena thought when she tried to look at her watch and realized she couldn't make out the numbers. The hot chocolate and bourbon-combination was a treacherous cocktail; she'd drank three of them since dinner like they were just regular hot chocolates and she hadn't felt the effects of them at all, not until now when apparently the entire force of it came crashing over her.

"It's getting late, I should…" she muttered and reached to put the empty mug onto the coffee table.  
"If you think I'm gonna let you drive yourself in that state, think again," Hunnigan scoffed, "Especially when the weather's the way it is."

"The weather?" Helena frowned and turned to look out the window. It was snowing, and judging from the generous amount of fluff coating the branches of the trees she could see, it had been snowing for a while now. Not uncommon considering the time of the year, but Helena had hoped it wouldn't snow at all, save her the trouble of switching to snow tires, putting off doing that quickly becoming a decision she regretted.

"Well, shit. I guess I'll call a cab," she sighed.  
"Yeah, good luck with that," Hunnigan chuckled, shaking her head. "You could also just stay here, and by the time you've slept it off, the roads will have been plowed," she then reasoned.

"I don't want to trouble you…"

"It's no trouble, honestly," Hunnigan dismissed and stood up. Helena stood up as well, only she'd forgotten she had a sleeping cat in her lap. Tripod let out a disgruntled and startled mewl and frantically sought out something to hold onto to keep himself from falling. Unfortunately, that something was Helena's thigh, the cat's claws digging deep into her flesh through the thin black jeans she was wearing, the tear deepening and growing longer as Tripod slipped lower, the weight of his body more than Helena's jeans and skin could support.

"Oh, good lord!" Hunnigan exclaimed and reached to grab the cat and dislodge his claws from Helena's leg.  
"…. fuck that hurts!" Helena exclaimed in a high-pitched voice and brought her hands over to squeeze the wound.

"Come on, I'll patch you up," Hunnigan then said, put Tripod onto the couch and led Helena into the bathroom.

The scratches reached from halfway down Helena's thigh all the way to the top of her knee, but fortunately they didn't seem to be too deep.

"You're gonna want to rinse it for a good few minutes," Hunnigan then said and Helena sighed, nodding a little and took off her jeans, shoes and socks before stepping into the tub and grabbing the showerhead, doing as she was told.

"I don't think you'll need stitches," Hunnigan said as she opened the medicine cabinet and took out a pack of large adhesive wound dressings and sterile gauze.

"I hope not," Helena muttered through clenched teeth. It was amazingly ironic; she could withstand being thrown around, getting shot and stabbed at, getting hit with basically any imaginable blunt object, but a few scratches on her skin stung like a motherfucker.

When she was done rinsing the wound, she sat on the edge of the tub and Hunnigan washed her hands before getting ready to patch up the wound.

She then pressed the gauze over the injury and held it still for a while, waiting for the bleeding to stop. It took a while, but once it stopped, she rinsed the wound once more with warm water and waited for it to dry a little before grabbing the antibiotic spray.

"It's not supposed to sting, but when have the labels regarding that ever been honest? So, buckle up just in case," Hunnigan then smirked and applied the medicine to the wound. It did sting, but not as much as one could've expected.

"Remind me to buy you a proper can of first aid spray in the future," Helena smirked back and Hunnigan chuckled.

"Considering how expensive it is, it's a bunch of BS. Sure, it works fine for a few minutes, but really it's a temporary relief at best, nothing beats good old fashioned wound care," she smiled and pulled out a large adhesive dressing from the pack.

She'd been worried it wouldn't be big enough, but thankfully, it reached over the wound just nicely. At this point, Helena wasn't even paying much attention to the stinging pain in her leg, she was more focused on Hunnigan's hands softly working to patch her up. She swallowed hard and inhaled and exhaled deeply, becoming uncomfortably aware of the fact that her heart began beating a little faster when Hunnigan touched her.

 _Oh, God,_ she groaned internally.

"There. How does it feel?"  
"Hm?" Helena was dragged back to reality. "Oh, it's fine, thank you," she mumbled and reached down to pick up her clothing from the floor. The jeans were soaked with blood.

"Let me throw those into the wash," Hunnigan then said and without waiting for an answer, grabbed the pants from Helena and put them into the washing machine.  
"Now… I'm gonna go make the bed so that you can get some shut eye," she then said.

"Hunnigan, no, that's not necessary, I'll just sleep on the couch," Helena shook her head.  
"Even if I didn't know for a fact that Tripod's nightly shenanigans would keep you awake, I wouldn't let you sleep on the couch, you're my guest."

"Yeah, well, now his shenanigans will keep you awake then."  
"I'm used to them," Hunnigan chuckled.

"Be that as it may, let's both of us just stay in the bedroom," she suggested and mentally kicked herself. _Why the fuck did I say that? What is wrong with me!  
_ "Sure, we can do that, if you're comfortable with it," Hunnigan shrugged, oblivious to Helena's internal struggle.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Helena chuckled, hoping to sound as nonchalant as she desperately tried to appear.

Not long after that, they were in Hunnigan's queen-sized bed, the bedroom dimly illuminated by the light blue of the street lamps softened and amplified by the snow reflecting it. Helena could hear Tripod scamper across the living room floor and the sound of him attacking his cat tree with viciousness that compensated for his lacking other front paw.

Helena closed her eyes and took a deep, quiet breath. She could feel the warmth radiating from Hunnigan's body and it was all she could do to keep herself from reaching out and touching her shoulder or reaching to nuzzle the back of neck and inhale the scent of her hair.

 _Oh, God, I am losing it, I'm seriously losing it,_ Helena mused, took another deep breath and swallowed hard.

"Hunnigan, can I ask you something personal?"  
"Better than anyone I know," Hunnigan chuckled and turned to her other side, facing Helena. "What do you want to know?"

"Are you seeing anyone?" Helena inquired and Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow.  
"I would've thought the number of cats answers that question," she laughed a little, shaking her head, "I am not seeing anyone, and I don't think that'll change anytime soon, not that I'd necessarily want it to either."

"Why not?"

"Because I enjoy being alone and honestly, I don't find many people interesting enough to want them as a permanent part of my life," she shrugged one shoulder. "Present company excluded," she then added with a lopsided smile.

"But don't you ever miss being close to another person? You know, like… their skin against your own, and kisses and cuddles and all that?"  
"Why are you asking me this?"

"Because I know I myself miss things like that, and I don't understand how you do this whole 'being alone'-thing so well. Any hints and tips you could offer?" Helena smirked and Hunnigan chuckled.

"Not really. And to answer your previous question, of course I miss those things, I'm only human. But, you get used to things, lack of affection being just one of the many things you can adapt to and overcome in time," she shrugged one shoulder.

"What a terrible thing to get used to."  
"I guess so. I don't really think about it all that much nowadays," Hunnigan said and settled to lay on her back.

"Funny, because I've recently thought about nothing else."  
"Strange, because you never struck me as the type who'd enjoy cuddling."

"Why is that?" Helena frowned.  
"It's the tough exterior, you come across as someone who will punch anyone who tries to hug her," Hunnigan laughed softly.

"Well, you're wrong," Helena stated and moved closer to Hunnigan, reaching to put her arm around the taller woman's midsection and rested her head on her shoulder.  
"Okay…" Hunnigan said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Also, I've recently realized that I never thanked you."  
"For… um, for what?" Hunnigan mumbled, slowly and carefully letting her arm wrap around Helena's shoulders and her hand to rest on Helena's arm.

"For everything you've done for me since day one. You stood up for me when no one else wanted to accept my transfer to the DSO because of the indiscretions in my file…"

"Well, in my experience, people who have a perfect record are liars or psychopaths who have nothing on their file because they've not gotten caught or simply aren't affected by anything."

"Be that as it may, I'm grateful that you took me under your wing. I don't suppose you realize it, but you've changed my life for the better in a hundred different ways," Helena muttered.  
"I… hadn't really thought about it, but you don't need to thank me either way."

"I, um… I have to tell you something," Helena then said and rose to rest her weight on her forearm.  
"Sounds serious," Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow.

"It is. And I know you're probably going to tell me it's just the booze talking, but it isn't, trust me, I've… this has been on my mind long before today… long before I even realized it was how I… okay, this is sounding weird."

"Just… what are you talking about?" Hunnigan chuckled awkwardly and Helena offered a rueful smile. In all honesty, she really didn't want to admit it, she didn't want to risk losing what was starting to seem like the beginning of an amazing friendship… but at the same time, not mentioning it wouldn't work in long-term either.

God forbid if there came a day when Hunnigan did start seeing someone; Helena would be stuck perpetually beating herself up for never saying anything before, and trying to deal with jealousy which would inevitably just lead to her messing up their friendship even worse. She hated to say it, but she knew this from experience.

"The truth is that… I'm falling in love with you."  
"… oh."

"I, uhm… I've felt that way for a while now, I can't stop thinking about you, and the more time I get to spend with you, the more I realize how happy being with you makes me feel, and how miserable I am when I'm not with you…" Helena trailed off, sighed deeply and shook her head a little. "I am sorry, I shouldn't have told you, I'm… I'm gonna go," she then stammered and got out of the bed. Hunnigan sat up as well and reached to turn the light on.

"Dressed like that?" she quirked an eyebrow, pointing out the fact that Helena's jeans were still in the washing machine.  
"… shit," Helena grumbled and sighed, turning around slowly. "You wouldn't happen to have a pair of pants I could borrow?"

"Sure, but I don't want you to go anywhere," Hunnigan shook her head and Helena seemed to perk up a little at hearing that.  
"… you don't?"

"Look, Helena… I'd be lying if I told you that I'm not attracted to you or that I'm not aware of a certain chemistry we have… and honestly, I really enjoy spending time with you too."  
"But?" Helena inquired suspiciously, looking like she was expecting something to hit her or fall on her head any second now.

"There is no 'but', Helena," Hunnigan chuckled softly and shook her head a little.  
"So… what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I would want to see where this goes. Could be we soon learn we're not exactly compatible as a couple and then we'll go our separate ways in that sense at least… or, who knows, maybe this could turn out to be the love story of the century. Either way, I think it's worth a shot, don't you?"

"Yes!" Helena almost yelled excitedly and blushed at her obviously eager reaction. "Uh, I mean… I would really like that. So, what happens now?"  
"Well, how about we get some sleep and talk more in the morning?" Hunnigan smiled.

With that, they got back into bed and Hunnigan reached to turn off the light. Helena scooted closer to her under the covers and let her hand rest on Hunnigan's forearm for a moment before sliding it down and entwining her fingers with Hunnigan's, drawing a circle into her palm with her thumb in a slow gentle stroke.

"You know… I really hadn't realized how much I actually did miss being close to someone until just now," Hunnigan mumbled. It was just a light touch of the hands, but she honestly couldn't remember the last time someone had held her hand.

"You won't have to miss another second of it as long as I'm around," Helena assured and nuzzled into the side of Hunnigan's neck.

* * *

Present day, Christmas morning.

Tripod jumped onto the bed, unable to pull off the slow creeping approach any other cat would've been because he was missing one leg which meant he needed to take tiny hops forward rather than made his way up from the foot of the bed and hobbled over Helena's abdomen until he was standing on her chest and leaned down to sniff her breath before proceeding to lick her nose.

"Oh, come on, Tripod… go bully Hunnigan," Helena grumbled sleepily and slowly began to roll over to her side, giving Tripod time to jump out of the way. He meowed at her and moved reluctantly, and when Helena reached to feel the other side of the bed, she realized Hunnigan wasn't there.

Sighing, Helena sat up and yawned, running a hand through her hair and reluctantly abandoned the warm and comfortable bed. She walked to the kitchen and wasn't surprised at all to find Hunnigan there, busying herself with piecing together the gingerbread house she'd gotten started on yesterday.

"I can't believe you got started without me," Helena smirked. Her inability to cook or bake anything had become kind of an inside joke between the two of them over the time they'd been together.  
"I was hoping to surprise you, I know how much you hate making these," Hunnigan chuckled, put the pastry bag away and got up.

"Happy anniversary," she then said and went to Helena, wrapped her arms around her and leaned to kiss her deeply.  
"Happy anniversary, Ingrid," Helena smiled into the kiss, "And merry Christmas," she then added.

"Merry Christmas to you too," Hunnigan said and hugged Helena tightly for a while longer before slowly backing away from the embrace and reached to turn the coffee maker on before returning to her decorating. Helena went to stand behind her and leaned down, crossing her arms over Hunnigan's chest and nuzzled her neck.

"You're distracting me."  
"Good, because I'd much rather just go back to bed with you and stay there snuggling and eating chocolate the entire day," Helena murmured into her ear and Hunnigan tilted her head to the side, closing her eyes and letting out a quiet groan of pleasure at the mere suggestion.

"Don't think I don't know what you're trying to do," she muttered and exhaled deeply when Helena's hands traveled lower to cup her breasts.  
"Is it working?" Helena grinned and trailed her lips along Hunnigan's jawline, covering the side of her neck with soft, warm kisses.

"Mmm… no."

"That's not what your body says," Helena teased as Hunnigan instinctively leaned back into the embrace and exhaled deeply when Helena gently pinched Hunnigan's left nipple between her thumb and index finger.  
"You don't play fair."

"Who said anything about playing?" Helena commented innocently.  
"Okay, okay, you need to stop," Hunnigan finally said and Helena sighed in disappointment and reluctantly stood up straight.

"Why don't you want to spend the day in bed with me?" she pouted and Hunnigan chuckled.

"You know I want to. But you also know that we're going to my parents for Christmas dinner this year, and if I let you talk me into going back to bed with you, I'm never getting back up again, and believe me, I'd rather not have to listen to my mother lecture me about the subject."

"Oh, come on, snuggling with me is totally worth the lecture," Helena smirked and poured herself a mug of coffee.  
"…and I also know you're trying to put this off because you're terrified of meeting my parents," Hunnigan added.

"Tsh, no I'm not," Helena scoffed.

"Yes, you are. If you weren't, you wouldn't have spent all this time coming up with every excuse imaginable to not meet them, but I'm not letting you get away with it this time. We've been together for four years, it's about time you met them! Frankly, I'm certain that at this point they're beginning to think I've made you up."

"Can't we just go all Hollywood and send a video greeting or something?" Helena mumbled into her coffee mug and Hunnigan laughed softly.  
"No! We're going, we're gonna have a nice dinner, they're gonna love you and you're gonna love them, and it'll be all happy and warm and… other nice things, all right?"

"All right, but when we get back, I'm expecting you to be prepared to lay on the bed, spread-eagled, covered in chocolate and whipped cream which I'll then get to lick off. That is non-negotiable."  
"… if that's all you really want in return for meeting my parents, then… I have a feeling we'll be visiting them _a lot_ in the future."


	4. Hot chocolate mayhem

**Author's note: This is a response to "Yeah, uh, alcohol doesn't go in hot chocolate", Hunniper**

* * *

Hunnigan went out to the porch and took a seat next to Helena on the swing. It was dark and relatively cold outside, but Helena wasn't even wearing a jacket; she'd hurried outside in such a hurry she hadn't stopped to grab it. Hunnigan gave it to her and she accepted it, slipping her arms into the sleeves and slumping back in the seat.

"Well… what happened there was terribly uncomfortable," Hunnigan said and Helena exhaled deeply, nodding her head in agreement.  
"Totally, I don't understand what went wrong," she responded and Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow. She sincerely hoped Helena was being sarcastic.

"I have an idea of what it might have been."  
"Oh?"

"Yeah, uh, alcohol doesn't go in hot chocolate," she commented when Helena poured bourbon into her mug from a flask.  
"That's where you're wrong, because here it goes, see, blending in perfectly," Helena smirked, held up her mug and swirled the liquid in it for a moment.

"Be that as it may, I'm pretty sure you shouldn't have more," Hunnigan said and took the mug away from the younger woman.  
"It wasn't that bad…"

"Honey, you threw up in my father's lap in the middle of Christmas dinner, it was that bad," Hunnigan said, barely stifling a chuckle, because as awkward as it had been, the look on their faces had been hilarious.  
"Hot chocolate and alcohol had nothing to do with that, I just got nervous when he started wielding that carving knife," Helena shrugged it off and Hunnigan scoffed.

"Yeah, sure, you are the type who throws up when nervous," she drawled sarcastically. Helena was anything but the nervous type usually, if anything she could be overconfident to the point of going into dangerous situations head first without even looking or thinking twice.

"You can't really blame me for getting nervous, he's a big, scary guy and he happens to hate me," Helena defended herself.  
"He hates everyone, don't take it personally," Hunnigan comforted, linked her arm with Helena's and leaned into her side.

"Pft, it's kind of hard not to. He looked at me once and made this face like he was looking at a bad cut of rancid meat," Helena scoffed. "He'd already decided to hate me anyway, I'm glad I threw up in his lap!" she then added in an angry mutter, narrowing her eyes, and Hunnigan chuckled quietly.

"I love you," she said and turned to kiss Helena's cheek softly.  
"I'm glad someone does," Helena smirked. "Can I have my hot chocolate back?"

"Are you gonna throw up on me if I say no?"  
"I'll probably do that either way," Helena shrugged and Hunnigan scoffed amusedly and gave the mug back.

"I love you," Helena then said.  
"You're talking to the hot chocolate, aren't you?"

"Naturally," Helena grinned and took a sip of her drink.  
"I'm sorry I dragged you with me, I should've at least warned you about just how much of a jerk my dad can be. He doesn't even have to say anything, he's like… mastered the looks of disapproval and disdain. I've received a few myself during my lifetime," Hunnigan apologized.

"Oh, really? I can't imagine you ever getting yourself in trouble like that," Helena chuckled and offered Hunnigan a drink from the mug. Hunnigan shrugged one shoulder a little and took a sip. She made a face at the taste; there was way too much bourbon in the drink.

"I'm actually the loser of the family as far as he's concerned, believe it or not."  
"Okay. Not."

"It's true! Imagine his disappointment when I didn't go to law school and take the path in my life that he'd ever so carefully planned out for me."  
"Oooh, you must've never lived that down."

"I didn't. Doesn't matter to him that what I do is actually more meaningful than defending sleazebags in court. It also doesn't matter to him that I like my job."  
"He probably hates your job even more now that he knows your job is why you met me," Helena smirked and Hunnigan laughed.

"If it's any consolation, you're still doing better than the last person I brought over to meet the parents."

"I don't see how that is possible, but go on," Helena encouraged and sipped her hot chocolate which by now had already gone cold and was more bourbon than chocolate milk. Hunnigan tightened her grip on Helena's arm and leaned into her once more, resting her head on her shoulder and crossed one leg over the other, pushing back a little to move the swing back and forth slowly.

"I was nineteen and brought a boy over, and for some reason he thought my dad would be impressed by the same kind of adolescent tricks my boyfriend's buddies seemed to be impressed with."  
"Like what?"

"Like igniting his Zippo by casually swiping it against his thigh. He didn't notice some of the lighter fluid leaked out and soaked into his jeans, and he ended up literally setting his own pants on fire, and my dad… without missing a beat or even blinking an eye, told him to his face that he's got to be the world's biggest dumbass."

"That doesn't sound as bad as me throwing up on him."  
"Not at first, but no matter what the look he gave you or what you did, he didn't question or insult your intelligence, which is actually kind of a big deal."

"I love you for trying to make me feel better, but you don't have to. Besides, I don't really care if he doesn't like me, it's not him I'm dating," Helena smirked and turned to kiss Hunnigan's forehead.  
"Come on, let's go inside and go to bed, that way it'll be morning sooner and we can get out of here," Hunnigan said and patted Helena's knee.

"Can I sneak into your room, like… by climbing along a downpipe or something to avoid any possibility of running into your father?"  
"Sure, but how much you wanna bet you'd end up climbing through my parents' bedroom window right when he's getting out of the shower he's probably still taking to get rid of your puke?" Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow.

"Point taken. Let's go," Helena said and hurried up.

Helena snuck upstairs and into Hunnigan's room while Hunnigan went to say good night to her mother and siblings.

"Oh, Christ on a cupcake, that was terrible," Helena mumbled to herself once she was safe and sound behind the closed door of Hunnigan's room. Frankly, she hadn't been expecting to make a great first impression; she knew that he was all about appearances and his reputation, and having someone like Helena -who, as far as he was concerned, came from a social class that was beneath his- date his daughter was a nightmare to him.

"Here, mom sent you this for your… uhm… upset stomach," Hunnigan said as she entered the room with a cup of ginger tea.  
"That is so nice of her," Helena chuckled and accepted the tea. "Why is someone as sweet as her married to such a grouch as your dad?"

"I'm thinking she must've lost a bet or something."  
"Either that or she was some kind of a monster in a previous life…"

"Naw, I know my dad can be really horribly crude and indifferent and a jerk, but he has his moments of being sweet. At least I think he does. That's what mom and my little brother say anyway," Hunnigan smirked.

Helena drank the tea and sat on the edge of the bed, sighing deeply. His obvious dislike of her did bother her a little, even if she didn't actually feel the need to be liked by him. She was the first to admit that Hunnigan probably could've done better than a hothead who grew up on the worse side of town. But at the same time, Helena didn't feel he was being exactly fair.

He'd barely spoken two words to her, he hadn't been interested in knowing anything of her after finding out she was "just a field agent". If one wasn't an executive something, he wasn't interested. What a petty way of judging people. If he had bothered getting to know the first thing about her, he would know that she loved his daughter, deeply and genuinely, and had he not been such a snob, that would've been all he needed to know.

"Hey. You know I love you, right?" Hunnigan said and took a seat next to Helena.  
"Yes. And that's all I needed to know," Helena smiled and put the tea away before kicking her shoes off and settling to lie down on the bed, patting the empty space next to her. Hunnigan followed her example and went next to her, resting her head on Helena's shoulder and wrapping her arm around her midsection, exhaling deeply in the comfortable sweetheart's cradle Helena held her in.

"…what are you doing?" Helena then murmured when Hunnigan slipped her hand underneath the hem of Helena's T-shirt slowly slid it higher, pausing to gently stroke the contours of Helena's abs before proceeding up to run her fingertips over the soft underside of Helena's breast.

"Touching you inappropriately?" Hunnigan grinned.  
"Hunnigan, we are at your parents' house," Helena exclaimed quietly and Hunnigan chuckled.

"I know, wouldn't it be so decadent?" Hunnigan whispered and covered the side of Helena's neck in tiny gentle kisses, slowly trailing her lips over Helena's jawline and finally kissed her lips.  
"I'm convinced you actually brought me over here because you planned to have your dad murder me or something," Helena muttered into the kiss and Hunnigan burst out laughing.

"Like he'd ever know, I can be very quiet."  
"I can't, and you know that."

"It's hardly my fault."  
"It's _all_ your fault. Well, you and your incredibly talented and elegant magic fingers…. oh-kay, I gotta stop thinking about them," Helena exhaled deeply and Hunnigan chuckled, raised her hand and wiggled her fingers in front of Helena's face.

"Stop that," Helena chuckled, grabbed Hunnigan's wrist and kissed her palm before gripping her hand in her own and held it against her chest.  
"Okay, okay, sorry," Hunnigan smiled and settled to lie back down.

"You can make it up to me when we get home," Helena murmured.  
"Oh? What did you have in mind?"

"Well… you know that thing you said you'd do on our wedding night?"  
"I never agreed to that."

"Yes, you did, you said we should save that for our wedding night, whenever that'll be."  
"It'll be never, if you insist on that idea of yours."

"Oh, come on."  
"Helena, I am not dressing up as a nun for you."

"I'm beginning to see the family resemblance between you and that grouchy father of yours."  
"Okay, that's not gonna work either," Hunnigan chuckled.

"Ah, worth a shot," Helena said and shrugged one shoulder a little. "And for the record, I was never serious about the nun-outfit."  
"You could've fooled me," Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow.

"Honestly, I just wanted to see the look on your face if I suggested it."  
"All right, so how can I actually make it up to you now that I've made it perfectly clear that the nun-thing is not an option?"

"First, I would want a full body massage, and then you could let me go down on you," Helena suggested innocently.  
"'Let' you? You make that sound like you must coax me into it, which isn't true. I mean, my God, if anyone who didn't know what was happening saw us, they'd think I was trying to drown you down there," she murmured.

"I can just imagine it. My last words would be 'thank you, darling, glub, glub, glub'."  
"Ew," Hunnigan made a face and they both burst out laughing.

"Ah, I love being ridiculous with you," Helena exhaled deeply and smiled happily.  
"You know, this was the most fun Christmas I've had in a long time, and it's all thanks to you throwing up in my father's lap."

"Who would've thought, huh?"  
"I know, right? I can't wait to see what you'll come up with next year to top this one," Hunnigan teased and Helena decided to play along.

"To be continued then, I suppose," she grinned and kissed Hunnigan's lips gently.

"I love us," Hunnigan chuckled and nuzzled her neck tenderly.  
"Me too, sweetheart. Me too."


	5. Freezing hot

**Author's note: this is a response to the promt "Here have my jacket. -I told you I'm not cold (shivering)"**

* * *

Hunnigan pushed her glasses to her forehead and pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing internally. She'd known this would happen, because it happened every time. She wasn't above admitting that she herself had once been exactly as stubborn as Helena was being right now, but she'd grown out of that to realize she'd rather be comfortable… which meant she had learned through experience that wearing high heels on a day you're supposed to spend literally eight hours on your feet was a terrible idea, and that going out on a chilly winter evening without a proper jacket was just plain stupid. But far be it from her to say it out loud, and far be it from Helena to admit she'd made a huge mistake when leaving the house in just a collared shirt.

"Here, take my jacket," Hunnigan said.  
"I told you, I'm not cold," Helena argued, obviously not realizing just how ridiculous her argument was considering she was shivering as she spoke.

"Of course you're not, but I'm hot because I dressed sensibly and then wore this jacket specifically so that I could give it to you when you… get _not_ cold at all," Hunnigan shrugged nonchalantly, still holding out her hand with the jacket hanging from the hook of her finger.

"Thanks, mom," Helena scoffed and rolled her eyes, and was about to finally give in and accept the jacket, when Hunnigan pulled it out of her reach.  
"Really, Helena?" she said and did that "slightly quirked eyebrow and pursed lips of disapproval"-look Helena was more than familiar with after having been on the receiving end of it so many times.

"Well, if you don't want me to 'mom' you, then stop treating me like a child."  
"I will, once you stop behaving like one."

"Then I suppose we've reached an impasse."  
"Oh, good Lord," Hunnigan sighed and finally handed the jacket over to Helena before turning on her heel and heading back toward the way they'd come from. "I'm going home."

"Wait, what? Seriously, we're gonna fight over this?"

"Not over this, but over the fact that you are intentionally antagonizing me over the dumbest little things just because you want an argument so that you won't miss me as much as you know you would if you weren't angry at me over nothing. You do this every fricking time you have a mission coming up, so, have it your way!" Hunnigan called back over her shoulder as she walked away with long, agitated strides.

"What are you talking about?" Helena frowned and went after her.

"About a little behavioral pattern I've noticed you have! You start a fight with me every single time, and every single time you completely ignore just how bad I feel knowing that you're out there, possibly getting into life threatening situations, and I just have to accept that maybe my last words to you were akin to something like 'piss off' because _you_ pissed _me_ off the day before leaving, just like you're doing right now!" Hunnigan ranted and then cleared her throat a little awkwardly when she realized a few heads were turning as the people walking by overheard her.

"Forget it," she muttered to Helena then and continued walking away.  
"Well, I'm sorry!"  
"You don't even know what you're apologizing for!"

"Of course I do... not!"

* * *

Helena put out her cigarette and sighed. She would've gladly stayed chain smoking on the porch for another half an hour rather than go inside and face Hunnigan, but she was out of cigarettes. She didn't mind admitting she'd been wrong and childish even; what she hated more than having to admit to that was the fact that she hadn't even noticed the behavioral pattern in herself until Hunnigan had pointed it out.

She hated realizing how much hurt she'd caused over the past couple of years they'd been together, and she'd rather left for a mission angry than feel sad about having to be apart. Hunnigan wasn't even her designated field operations support agent since they'd made their relationship public knowledge at the agency (admittedly, a smart decision made to avoid any possibility of there being any questions regarding conflict of interest) which meant they weren't usually in any contact during Helena's deployments, and she hated it. Being angry was easier and more useful than being sad.

…but, that didn't mean it made her behavior acceptable.

Helena went inside and headed into the study where she knew Hunnigan would be. Busying herself with work was how she dealt with frustration… unless her work was the source of the frustration, in which case she usually went for a run or took out her frustration by cleaning. She'd broken more than one plate while agitatedly doing the dishes, and Helena knew to back away slowly and come back with chocolate or flowers if she came home and realized everything was a bit too spotless.

Helena stood behind Hunnigan's chair and leaned down, wrapping her arms around Hunnigan from behind and nuzzled into the top of her head. Hunnigan didn't acknowledge her, she didn't even stop typing.

"I'm sorry I didn't bring a jacket," Helena said and Hunnigan slammed her hands onto the keyboard and turned her head to look in Helena's general direction.  
"Seriously, Helena?" she scoffed, and Helena chuckled softly before straightening her back.

"No, not really, I just needed to get you to stop working," Helena said and sat on the corner of Hunnigan's desk.

"You're sitting on Ada Wong," Hunnigan muttered and glanced at the folder under Helena's buttocks. There wasn't much in the folder since no one knew much anything of the spy. Hunnigan had never been able to quite decide what to do about her since she wasn't exactly an ally, but she wasn't exactly an enemy either. Instead of assigning agency resources to figuring Ada out, she'd made a hobby out of digging up everything she could about Ada. So far, she hadn't been very successful, which was saying something considering how vast Hunnigan's and the DSO's intelligence network was.

"I don't hear her complaining," Helena smirked and wiggled around a little.  
"Oh, God, you really are a child," Hunnigan sighed and was about to return her attention to her laptop when Helena pushed the lid shut.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"  
"About what?"

"About the fights. If you knew why I was doing that, then why didn't you tell me about it sooner?"  
"Because when you get back from a mission, I'm just so relieved you're okay that I don't even care about the fight, and frankly would rather not pick up a stupid, pointless argument right where we left off," Hunnigan explained.

"How very mature of you," Helena smirked.  
"One of us has to be an adult."

"Hey, I'm an old soul…"  
"Yes, which is why you think you know everything, but you don't, especially not yourself, because you're still just a kid."

"Jesus, Hunnigan, I'm twenty-five years old, I'm hardly a kid," Helena chortled, but Hunnigan wasn't amused.  
"In a lot of ways, you… you really are," she sighed.

"Are you saying that because I called you mom?"

"Yes, and no. It's not about what you said, but about why you said it. Our age difference is a touchy subject to me, and still you say things which remind me of it, and that you say it despite knowing I don't like the reminder just goes to show you really don't have a problem intentionally hurting my feelings," Hunnigan explained until she was almost out of breath, paused to inhale and added, "Either that or then you're just incredibly inconsiderate."

"The latter, the latter!" Helena protested, and Hunnigan smirked, leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her abdomen.  
"You do realize you're not exactly making a good argument for yourself now either?"

"Yes, but I'd rather admit to being an inconsiderate jerk unintentionally than admit to hurting you on purpose," Helena muttered.  
"Look, Helena… I really don't know if we can—"

"Don't say it."  
"I don't want to say it, but you can't deny that—" Hunnigan began, but Helena interrupted her again.

"Don't underestimate my powers of denial."  
"Would you stop that!" Hunnigan snapped and stood up, exhaled deeply and left the study, heading to the kitchen. She needed a drink.

"So, what, you want to throw away almost two years just because we're a little different? I mean, seriously, the age gap isn't that much even! Hell, I've seen eighty-year olds with twenty-somethings and they seem to make it work."

"Yeah, because he has Viagra and a thick wallet, and she's mastered the art of leaving her body whenever she has to do something less than pleasant," Hunnigan muttered as she poured herself a scotch, and Helena tried to remain serious, but she couldn't; she burst out laughing and even Hunnigan smiled a little.

"And look on the bright side, you get to say 'I told you so' to me all the time."  
"I do that?"

"Constantly."  
"Yeah, well, that's because something went wrong, and I warned you it would happen, but you didn't listen."

"Yes, you were right, and I was wrong, and you are so much smarter than me, and I'm just a stupid brat who lives in a fantasy world of denial and doesn't like to carry a jacket even when it's cold."  
"Evidently, you can also be a bit of a drama queen," Hunnigan added and sipped her drink. Helena exhaled deeply and ran her hands over her face in exasperation.

"You tell me you want to dump me because I'm a few years younger than you, and _I'm_ the dramatic one? Give me a break!" she scoffed. "I'm sorry for what I said, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings with it, and that's something you should already know about me. I am a jerk, but never just to hurt you."

"All right," Hunnigan said and Helena narrowed her eyes. That was her version of saying "fine" when nothing was fine.  
"I'm sorry, that I don't stop and think everything over three times before saying it, because I never realized I'd need to, but I suppose I underestimated how god damn insecure you are!" Helena lashed out, and immediately regretted saying it.

"I shouldn't have…"  
"No, you're right," Hunnigan said, finished her drink and poured another one.

"I've always dreaded the day you would say those words," Helena tried joking, but she felt like her insides were on the verge of imploding with anxiety. She went to the counter and followed Hunnigan's example, proceeding to pour herself a drink.

"So, what happens now?" she asked and leaned her hip into the counter as she sipped the scotch. She resisted the urge to make a face at the taste. She'd never understood how anyone could drink this stuff and actually enjoy it.

 _Maybe I'm not grown up enough to enjoy such things and should just stick to beer… or better yet, juice boxes,_ Helena mused somewhat bitterly.

"I don't know. I really don't," Hunnigan exhaled tiredly and shook her head.  
"Hey," Helena said, put the drink away and stepped to Hunnigan. She put her arms around Hunnigan's waist and pulled her closer, Hunnigan eased into the movement and put her arms around Helena's shoulders.

"Whatever happens… I'll bring a jacket," she said in mock-seriousness and Hunnigan burst out laughing against the side of Helena's neck.

"I love you," Helena smiled and nuzzled Hunnigan's cheek.  
"I love you too," she responded and hugged her tightly.

"And yeah, we're gonna get into stupid arguments, and some are probably gonna be even worse than this, and we'll make mistakes, and we'll…" Helena trailed off and sighed. "Point is, there are going to be times when things suck, but we're gonna figure it out and talk it through, or… scream it through and break a few plates while we're at it, but at the end of it all… we'll figure it out, together. Right?"

"Well, look at you being the mature one," Hunnigan chuckled softly.  
"I know, it's terrible, I have to go play in a puddle and spend the rest of the day watching cartoons to recover from this," Helena jested.

"Can I come with you?" Hunnigan smiled as she pulled back from the hug.  
"Of course. Who'd carry my jacket if you weren't there?" Helena winked and kissed her.


	6. She wears boys' underwear

**Author's note: This is a response to "How about you make me", Cleon**

* * *

Leon stood in the shower, completely ignoring the nagging thought about wasting a precious resource like water in this manner. His aching body needed the soothing feeling the warm cascade of water provided. After everything he'd been through in Tall Oaks and China, he was relatively certain he if anyone had earned a long, hot shower.

He would've stayed longer if he didn't need to go into the office for the debriefing and to finish up on the paperwork. He'd gingerly asked Hunnigan if she could do it for him, and she'd given him what he playfully referred to as "Hunnigan's level ten death glare™", aka stared at him over the frame of her tinted glasses with a look that silently and efficiently told him she thought he must be an idiot to even think of asking such a thing.

Leon finally left the bathroom and went to get dressed. As he rummaged through the drawers, he realized he didn't have any clean underwear left. He didn't understand how that was possible, he was certain he'd just done the laundry.

 _Claire,_ he sighed internally when the realization hit him.

Usually, he didn't mind it when she borrowed his clothes if it was a shirt or a hoodie, and especially not if he got to see her wear it the morning after she'd spent the night. In fact, the sight of her in his shirt was one of the sexiest things he'd ever seen. The way he saw it, his shirt on her was the equivalent of a flag on a conquered fortress. He was sure someone would find the metaphor offensive, so he'd never said as much out loud, not even despite that he never meant it in any demeaning way.

He liked it when she borrowed his shirts because afterward, they smelled of her, and her scent was one he loved wearing. However, Claire's penchant for stealing his boxers was starting to become an inconvenience. He grabbed his jeans and shirt, and went downstairs.

"Claire? You wouldn't happen to know what happened to my underwear?" Leon queried as he entered the kitchen where she was standing by the island in the middle of the room, eating a late breakfast.  
"No…" she said slowly and moved a little so that her lower half was hidden behind the counter, the small movement not going unnoticed by him.

"Then why do you look so guilty?" he smirked and took a step toward her, and she took another step to the side to continue remaining hidden.  
"I look pretty, nothing else," Claire denied.

"Pretty guilty," Leon said and faked a left before going right and bumping into Claire, who'd tried hiding from him. When he raised the hem of her shirt to see her underwear, he discovered that sure enough, she was wearing his favorite pair of boxer briefs, the ones that had a picture of a shark taking a bite out of the words "Quality meat" on the bum.

"Why do you do this?" he sighed.  
"They're comfortable," Claire shrugged.

"They're mine, and I need them. Give them back, please."  
"How about you make me?" Claire smirked, and leaned closer to him, faking seriousness and exaggerating her threatening stance.

"If you think I won't wrestle them from you, you're wrong."  
"Well, what's stopping you? Come at me," Claire taunted.

"I don't have the time for this, give me my undies. If I get an awkward boner and Hunnigan notices it, she'll cut my junk off," he exhaled deeply. "She has a pair of scissors on her desk, but I know she never does any literal paperwork."  
"…so, in your mind, the only logical reason for her having the scissors is to cut off boy parts from guys who get awkward boners?" Claire quirked an eyebrow.

"Yes."  
"And here I thought it was Helena's job to cut off boy parts from anyone who dares to even think about making a pass at Hunnigan," Claire smirked, and Leon scoffed amusedly.

"Yeah, but she's not always around, and that's when the scissors come in play."  
"Well, I can see how she could be quite threatening," Claire said, grabbed her breakfast and was about to casually head into the living room to finish eating, obviously having no intention of returning Leon his underwear.

"Don't think I didn't notice you trying to distract me," Leon said and stepped in front of her. "My underwear, please. I can't have Scott hanging freely all over the place," he grinned.  
"You're probably the only man I know who does _not_ want to perform some weird penis puppetry to every woman he sees," Claire mumbled, put her plate aside and reluctantly began to undress.

"I'm a gentleman and I have some class. Plus, I don't need to resort to such trickery to impress the ladies," he wiggled an eyebrow and reached to grab the piece of clothing from her hand, but she yanked it away just before he could.  
"'Ladies', as in plural?" she questioned.

"Slip of the tongue, you know you're the only lady I'm trying to impress."  
"I'd better be, or you'll never see your underwear again," Claire narrowed her eyes.

"You're holding my underwear hostage?" he scoffed in disbelief.  
"Yeah, and if you don't behave yourself, I'll start stretching the waistband until the elasticity is gone and it's ruined."

"You monster."  
"What's so special about these anyway, can't you just go commando?" Claire asked and finally let him have his precious underwear.

"Okay, full disclosure? These are designed to hide awkward boners," he said and put them on, taking a moment to adjust himself.  
"You get a lot of those around Hunnigan, do you?" Claire drawled, and he sighed. Women. Then again, he couldn't blame her really; how could she have any idea what it was like to live with a body part what was constantly involved in unauthorized activity?

"No, I get them randomly just like every other guy does, it's just how boy parts work, but as I said, I'm a gentleman and so, I've taken measures to remain modest," he smiled sweetly.  
"Yeah, and I imagine having to give a brief in front of a whole team while sporting an awkward boner would be embarrassing," Claire teased.

"You jest, but you have no idea," Leon said and was about to put on his T-shirt, but Claire put her hand over his forearm to stop him.  
"Do those boxers actually work like you said they do?" she said, grinning a little as she pressed herself against him.

"Thankfully, I've never really had to test that in action. They're more of a precaution really," he answered and cleared his throat a little when she put her arms around him and slid her hands down along his back.  
"I think we should find out if you got your money's worth," she said with a sly grin.

"Have I done something to upset you? Or do you just enjoy antagonizing me for no real reason?" he groaned when she gave his buttocks a firm squeeze.  
"Not yet, but you might at some point, this is pre-emptive antagonizing," she said innocently and leaned to leave soft kisses onto the side of his neck, trailing down to his collarbone, across his chest and back up the other side of his neck.

"Just remember you've already done this the next time I mess up and piss you off," he chuckled and placed his hands onto her hips, realizing only now that she was still nude from the waist down, dressed only in a T-shirt that reached halfway down her thighs; his shirt, of course.

"I will make no such promise," Claire breathed into his ear, and he inhaled sharply.  
"Okay, no, really, I'm going to be so late," he sighed and reluctantly took a step back.

"Well, the good news is, your underwear works as it should… unless I've lost my touch and nothing's happening down there," Claire quirked an eyebrow as she stared at his crotch.  
"Oh, believe me, your touch is just fine…" he trailed off, exhaling deeply.

"Try not to think about it while Hunnigan's near her scissors," Claire smiled and grabbed what was left of her breakfast and went to microwave it.  
"Or, actually, if Helena's in town, I'd imagine she's busy doing different kind of scissoring," she then added shrugging a little.

"Oh, my God, Claire!" Leon chortled and finally put on his shirt.  
"Another thing you probably shouldn't think about when Hunnigan's nearby," she chuckled as the microwave beeped.

"Ya think?" he scoffed with a smile as he finished buttoning up the shirt and straightened the collar before pulling his jeans on.  
"How do I look?"

"Not sexually frustrated at all," Claire grinned and began to hitch the hem of her shirt up slowly, and he sighed in exasperation at her antics.  
"You are in so much trouble when I get back home," he shook his head, stepped to her and kissed her lips softly.

"I'm counting on it," she smiled into the kiss.


	7. Not so fine dining

**Author's note: This is a response to "drabble based on which of the OTP drives 20 minutes for those AMAZING chocolate chip cookies at that truck stop (Hunniper)"**

* * *

"You're late," Hunnigan told Helena the moment she opened the door to the apartment.

"And you're extremely rude if that's the way you greet the love of your life on our anniversary," Helena quirked an eyebrow and stepped inside. "Besides, I have a good reason. I wanted cookies, so I went to get some, and that's why I'm late. You can have one, if you like. _One,_ " she then added, holding up her index finger to physically emphasize the amount.

"It took you over an hour to get cookies? Where the hell did you get them from, Alaska?" Hunnigan scoffed.  
"No, Baltimore," Helena responded and took a bite out of a large chocolate chip cookie, completely oblivious to the fact that it had been a rhetorical question.

"…you drove to Baltimore for a box of cookies. Do you even realize how ridiculous that is?"  
"Not just any cookies, these are _amazing_ cookies, and I was specifically craving for these and I've never seen them sold anywhere else than that one truck stop there, so I figured, why not," Helena shrugged.

"I'll tell you why not; because while you were on your quest for the _'amazing'_ cookies, we lost our table at the restaurant. Those cookies better be laced with heroin to make them worth it," Hunnigan ranted as she agitatedly began to take off her jewelry; no need for fancy earrings and bracelets since apparently she would be eating leftovers at home.

"You're just cranky because you're hungry, have a cookie," Helena said with her mouth full, a few crumbs escaping from between her lips as she spoke.  
"Really, Helena? _Really?"_ Hunnigan snapped.

"What?" she frowned, still holding her hand out, the cookie pinched between her fingers.  
"We've been married for seven years today and you still don't remember that stuff like cookies tend to literally destroy my small intestine."

"I swear, it's totally worth it."  
"You're unbelievable," Hunnigan muttered and turned on her heel, heading into the kitchen to grab something to eat since the planned dinner at a restaurant wasn't happening.

Helena finished eating her cookie and put the rest of them down before following Hunnigan. She paused to stand behind her and wrapped her arms around her midsection.

"Don't even think about it, I'm furious with you," Hunnigan said and shoved at Helena's arms, but she stubbornly put them back around her.  
"Do you remember when I asked you out for the very first time?" Helena asked, resting her chin on Hunnigan's shoulder.

"Yes, you took me to a hot dog stand, and when I told you I'd been expecting you to take me to some place where we could at least sit down to eat, you told me we could go sit in the car," Hunnigan answered dryly, and Helena nodded.  
"Yeah, and what happened after I finally convinced you to get in the car?" she continued questioning and Hunnigan sighed deeply, bringing her fingers to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"…you drove us to the Chrysalis vineyards where you'd arranged a picnic and a wine tasting for us."

"Right. So, what do you think are the odds that this cookie-scheme is the equivalent of that hot dog stand?" Helena smirked. Frankly, it wasn't completely a scheme, she really did love those cookies.  
"I'm in no mood for your games."

"You're gonna make me spoil the surprise, aren't you?" Helena sighed a little and tugged on Hunnigan, urging her to turn around so that they were face to face.  
"Okay, look. I cancelled our reservation because I got us one at that place you've been talking about non-stop for the past three weeks, but it isn't until later, so—"

"So, you couldn't have just called me and let me know?" Hunnigan interjected agitatedly, and Helena offered a lopsided smile.  
"No, because that would've ruined the surprise. And it would've robbed me the pleasure of making you feel bad when I finally tell you the truth and you realize you lost your temper for nothing."

"Why do you insist making me feel bad?" Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow.  
"Because you always assume the worst of me, like just now, you genuinely thought I'd forgotten important things like your coeliac disease and our anniversary. I mean, give me some credit," Helena smirked.

"You're terrible."  
"I wouldn't be if you'd learned by now that I'm a romantic schemer, not an inconsiderate jerk, but no; you still think that I forget or that I don't care, and frankly, that hurts my feelings."

"I'm sorry, and you're right, I really should know better by now, but it's just… I'm not used to being cared for like this."  
"Not even after seven years?" Helena interjected.

"Seven years versus a lifetime of having to always make a plan B because ninety percent of the time, the person I was supposed to be able to count on let me down. And yes, I know, that is terribly unfair toward you because as you said, you haven't done anything to deserve it," Hunnigan said, shaking her head a little. "Well, except constantly pulling stunts like this just because it tickles you," she then said, narrowing her eyes at Helena, and the younger woman chuckled.

"I like surprising you, and I rarely get away with it because you always know everything two days before it happens, so I need to pull stunts like this," she said and put her hands on Hunnigan's hips, pulled her closer and leaned to kiss her lips gently.  
"How do you put up with me?" Hunnigan mumbled into the kiss.

"Well, you're pretty cute, and great in bed," Helena teased with a shrug. "And, I suppose I do kind of love you, or something like that, whatever," she added with a grin.

"I suppose I kind of love you too," Hunnigan responded in kind and chuckled a little. "I'm sorry I expected the worst. But, from now on… don't do things like this. I might get used to it and start expecting everything to be more than it is, so imagine the disappointment when there will be that day when a date at a hot dog stand is just a date at a hot dog stand," she added and Helena gasped softly.

"Oh, God, I hadn't even realized that."  
"Yeah, not so great now, is it?"

"Fine, but you still have to make tonight up to me."  
"What did you have in mind?" Hunnigan asked and Helena paused to think about it. After a while, a mischievous grin rose to her lips and Hunnigan wasn't sure if she wanted to hear what she had to say.

"The next time I want cookies, _you_ drive to Baltimore to get them."  
"Tough, but fair," Hunnigan smiled, having expected something much worse.

"Now… go have a cookie while I get ready for dinner," Helena said and kissed Hunnigan once more before turning to head to the bedroom to change.  
"You know I—" Hunnigan began to say and Helena turned at the door, leaned to the frame and smirked.

"The other box of cookies is gluten-free, you're really gonna have to start trusting that I _do_ know you."  
"I'll wait until our twentieth anniversary before deciding on that," Hunnigan called out after her.

"Just for that, I'll mix all the cookies together and you'll never know which ones are safe to eat."  
"I don't care, I don't even like cookies."

"Everyone likes cookies," Helena said when she emerged from the bedroom, buttoning up a black collared shirt. "How do I look?" she then asked, pausing to do a Superman-pose.

"You could use a little splash of color."  
"If you're implying that I should wear blush, it is _you_ who clearly does not know _me,_ " Helena quirked an eyebrow. Hunnigan smiled and moved to gently grip the tip of Helena's chin between her thumb and index finger and leaned to kiss her.

"I meant more like wear red bowtie or something," she said then.  
"Well, bowties _are_ cool…" Helena said slowly, pursing her lips as she thought about it. "But you'll have to tie it for me."

"I don't understand why you haven't figured out how to do it yourself," Hunnigan chuckled and went to the closet to get the bowtie.  
"Are you kidding? Of course I know how to do it," Helena said as she adjusted the collar of her shirt so that Hunnigan could get the bowtie in place. It wasn't an entire lie, she _could_ do it, but it took her longer than she liked to admit.

"I just really like it when you do it for me," she added.  
"Mm-hm," Hunnigan hummed as she tied the bowtie, her eyebrow quirking suspiciously.

"I think that this kind of grooming habits are an underappreciated form of intimacy," Helena reasoned and Hunnigan scoffed amusedly.  
"Okay, let's go with that for now," she said, kissed Helena again and glanced at her watch. "When are we supposed to be at the restaurant?"

"Don't worry, we'll get there in time," Helena said and rolled her eyes a little. "Now, come on, Mrs. Hunnigan. You wouldn't want to be late for your date with the most amazing, most romantic, most gorgeous woman in the world, namely, _moi_ ," she winked with a grin and offered her arm.

"I certainly would not, Mrs. Harper," she smiled and linked her arm with Helena's. "I certainly would not."


	8. When I see you dance with another

**Author's note: This is a response to a prompt I got after I put out a request for any prompt, and I was asked if it were possible to get "a Cleon oneshot out of a song called 'When I see you dance with another'".**

* * *

Leon had what Claire playfully called "Bambi-legs", meaning that whenever he tried to dance with the grace and smoothness he managed everything else, he turned into Bambi on ice. He'd never told Claire how much he hated just watching from the sidelines. Seeing her dance with others -even if he knew there was nothing more to it, it was really just dancing- made him feel rather lousy.

Dancing was something he wouldn't be able to give her despite his best efforts. She'd told him he should just let it all flow through him, relax, move and melt into the song, but he couldn't. He didn't feel the flow Claire adamantly insisted was there. He couldn't force his limbs to relax.

But Claire… she moved like she was liquid, her body swaying to the beat of the song, the multi-colored lights of the dance floor washing over her and a dozen others, weaving them all into a single moving mass of flesh, and when he looked over, all he saw was her. She was free, tossing her hair and letting her arms rise high toward the ceiling, moving them along the song, but unlike anyone else with their arms flailing about, she didn't look ridiculous; she flowed effortlessly with the rhythm of the music.

She looked over and locked eyes with him across the room. She smiled. Leon finished his drink and got up. He didn't care that he didn't know what to do, he needed to be there with her, even if all he could do would be to stumble and fall or stand still.

Leon put his hands onto her hips and she turned around, instinctively pressing her body to his, her hips digging into his. She slipped her fingers into his hair, balling her hand into a fist, tugging on the blond strands with gentle firmness, pulling him closer. She kissed him in a way that made him forget how to breathe.

Her hands traveled over his ribs, down to his buttocks, her grip sending bolts of red lightning across his body, tingling his spine and nesting in his chest. The warmth of her hands soaked into his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. He slipped his hand down to the back of her knee and tugged on her. She smoothed into the movement, pushed herself up against him.

"Do you want to get out of here?" she said into his ear over the loud and overwhelming music. She didn't feel like dancing anymore; the warm ache pooling in the pit of her stomach and dripping through her made her want something different.

He hesitated. He wasn't sure if she was asking because she wanted to leave or because she knew he didn't want to be here. She kissed him hard, tugged on his hair, her fingernails scratching the back of his neck as she nipped his lower lip.

"Let's go," he breathed hoarsely into the kiss.

* * *

Leon almost tripped over his feet when he and Claire entered the apartment, both busy unbuttoning various items of clothing and tugging on them to get rid of them, not caring about where they ended up landing or how many buttons were lost in the process; all of it still as passionate and exciting as it had been when they'd been in their twenties, bodies humming with adrenaline and the rush of having survived Raccoon City.

Back then, Leon had barely been able to believe she'd wanted to invite him so close, and even to this day, it still felt like an honor. Her desire to share herself with him made him feel like he was the most important guy in the world. She trusted him with herself and was safe knowing he would never do anything to violate that trust.

He lay on his side next to her, his hand traveling a familiar pattern down along her body before finally settling between her legs, the welcoming wetness that greeted him causing another surge of arousal lance through him when he took a moment to consider he was the cause and the object of her desire. She put her hand on the back of his head and pressed her lips onto his, pulling him closer and he eased into the movement as Claire parted her legs further.

She arched her back and exhaled deeply when he settled between her legs. That first push which was always accompanied by the gently burning feeling of being stretched was one of her favorite parts in the entire act. She knew to expect his girth, and still, somehow, the feeling of him filling her always pleasantly surprised her. It made no sense and she knew it, but it didn't matter.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, locking him in place. He wouldn't have moved even if she'd left him the option to do so; he closed his eyes and leaned to bury his face into the side of her neck, moaning quietly at the sensation of her inner muscles constricting around his length in an erratic pattern she wasn't in charge of anymore.

Finally, she loosened her hold of him and encouraged him to move, raking her fingernails down his back, bringing her hands to grip his buttocks demandingly. He gave in, eagerly, this time not even trying to hold back the loud groan of pleasure that tickled its way up his throat.

She cupped his face with her palm and he turned his head to be able to see her. She loved that look on his face, the rapture easily visible on his handsome features, the soft look in his eyes exposing the kind of an intimate vulnerability he showed only for her.

She slowly shifted on the bed and Leon paused for a moment, waiting for her to turn to lay on her stomach. Once she did, he gripped her hips and pulled on her gently, raising her hips off the mattress. He guided himself in and leaned over her, resting his weight on one arm as the other wrapped over Claire's chest. She bent her back and tilted her head far back as he inclined further forward, reaching to press his lips onto hers, the upside-down kiss not a completely new experience, but still exquisitely stimulating in its unfamiliarity.

She broke the kiss, braced herself on her forearms, her elbows and knees digging into the mattress as she raised her hips once more, pressing tightly against him, an involuntary whimper emanating from her when she felt his manhood press against the sensitive spot within her. It didn't take long for the sensation to become overwhelming, and he moved just before the sweet pressure began bordering on pain.

She slipped her arm underneath her body, her fingers finding their way to between her legs and over her clit. Usually, she didn't shy away from guiding his fingers to do the work for her, but she wanted him to have his hands free and focus on what he was doing. It didn't take long for her to reach the point of no return, her breath hitched, and her heart began jackhammering against her ribcage as she neared the edge.

She moaned his name, repeatedly, unable to think of anything else to say in that moment, but needing almost desperately to speak. He smiled, keeping his pace steady, holding himself back despite his need to let go slowly beginning to be beyond his control.

"Leon!" she gasped, her body trembling underneath his as she came, the clenching of her inner muscles around his length the last straw which broke his self-control. He collapsed over her, breathing heavily as he tensed up and went still for half a second before his release.

Feeling all kinds of satisfied, he slowly moved to lay on his side on the bed and pulled Claire closer, spooning her, knowing they probably should've taken a quick shower before falling asleep, but not wanting to move. She felt the same way and interlaced her fingers with his as she pulled his arm around herself.

She yawned and closed her eyes, the warmth radiating from his body and his closeness making her sleepy, and the comfortable feeling of safety she felt only when in his arms quickly helping to drift her off to sleep.

He nuzzled into her hair and sighed happily. Just as he was about to fall asleep, he realized that it didn't really matter if she danced with others on the dance floor as long as this, the last dance of the evening, would always be reserved for him.


	9. Metafiction

**This is a response to "I'm not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention. (Hunniper)"**

* * *

Sunday, January 3rd, 2044.

Helena woke to the familiar sound of typing. Once upon a time it had taken her weeks to get used to it, but nowadays she found herself needing the quiet sounds to be able to fall asleep in the first place. She'd lost quite a bit of sleep every time Hunnigan had gotten a new laptop and the sound of the keyboard had been all wrong compared to what she'd gotten used to.

She turned to her other side and reached to press her face against the side of Hunnigan's thigh.

"Good morning," Hunnigan smiled, glanced over to her and sunk her fingers into Helena's hair, scratching her scalp in a few tiny movements for a moment before returning to her typing.  
"Have you even gone to sleep at all? I swear, this is exactly how I left you last night," Helena said.

"I did sleep," Hunnigan said absently.  
"Where's my morning coffee?" Helena then teased.

"Probably waiting for you to brew it."  
"Is it just my imagination or have you gotten sassier since you retired?" Helena quirked an eyebrow and sat up, moving her pillows behind her back to be able to lean into them.

"It only seems like that to you because I spend most of my free time thinking up cheeky comebacks and having imaginary conversations in my head, so I'm always prepared," Hunnigan smirked and Helena rolled her eyes.  
"Hey," she then said and poked Hunnigan's arm with her index finger.

"Yes?" Hunnigan said, not even looking up from her laptop. Helena didn't answer; instead, she poked a trail up to Hunnigan's shoulder and then back down her arm all the way to the elbow.  
"That is really annoying."

"I'm not gonna stop poking you until you give me some attention."  
"So, you're just gonna keep annoying me until I give in? I bet coercing people like that is illegal."

"Yeah, well, you should've thought about how annoying I can be before you agreed to have yourself legally bound to me," Helena grinned confidently and leaned to kiss Hunnigan's cheek.  
"Oh, believe me, I did think about it. A lot."

"Yeah, I kind of got that idea after you turned me down the third time."  
"What can I say, I was raised to believe women should act hard to get."

"I still think it was excessive."  
"What difference does it make, we're here now, bickering like the old couple that we are," Hunnigan shrugged.

"True, and I love it and I love that we're an old couple."  
"I'm not really a fan of being old, but whatever floats your boat," Hunnigan chuckled.

"You're not old," Helena sighed.  
"The fact that my everything hurts on a regular basis begs to differ," Hunnigan smirked.

Frankly, aging hadn't bothered Hunnigan until recently when she'd been practically forced to retire from her position as the head of FOS. And even then, it wasn't so much her age which bothered her, but it was the boredom that came with it. She'd been working since her teenage years, and it had been weeks after retirement that she'd finally stopped accidentally putting on her suit and getting ready to go to work every morning.

Now that she had all the time in the world, she didn't know what to do with it. She'd never had plans for the retirement years like some did; she didn't want to sail around the world or start gardening. She had volunteered at various places for a while, but her heart hadn't been in it; as much as she liked the idea of teaching basic computer skills to those who lacked them, in reality it had just been frustrating.

"Well, maybe if you didn't sit up all night typing… whatever it is that you're typing… that wouldn't be such a problem," Helena remarked and reached to give the back of Hunnigan's neck a squeeze.  
"Oh, that feels good," Hunnigan groaned when Helena dug her thumbs deeper into the tense muscles.

"I'll continue if you tell me what you're writing that's so important that you couldn't tear yourself away from it long enough to bring me coffee in bed."  
"I figured that since I have the time now, I might try my hand at writing a book. I was pretty good at writing when I was in school," Hunnigan said.

"Really? What's the book about?" Helena asked and moved a little on the bed so that she could see over Hunnigan's shoulder.  
"About a CIA officer who gets framed for treason when the national security advisor has the President assassinated and blames the attack on her."

"Hm, that sounds _veeerrry_ familiar," Helena drawled with a grin.  
"This story is a work of fiction and any similarities to real life events and people are purely coincidental," Hunnigan stated the standard disclaimer and Helena burst out laughing.

"Can I read it?"  
"I'll think about it," Hunnigan said and Helena leaned to plant soft kisses onto the side of Hunnigan's neck.

"Well, I really just want to read the smutty scenes," Helena muttered against her skin.  
"There aren't any," Hunnigan scoffed and Helena inhaled in exaggerated shock.

"Why not?"  
"I've only got about a hundred pages, it's a little early for that. It took us longer than a hundred pages to get there," Hunnigan grinned a little.

"You're gonna make people read over a hundred pages before getting to the good stuff? Unbelievable."  
"For your information, some people enjoy reading plot rather than lengthy descriptions of the mechanics of sex. And, some people also enjoy reading books that have more pages and story than the children's books you read," Hunnigan pointed out.

"Excuse you, _Donald Duck_ is not exclusively for children and the pocket books have way over hundred pages, easily."  
"Be that as it may, no smut in my book."

"I'm beginning to see what makes it fictional," Helena whispered and moved to wrap her arms around Hunnigan's midsection before resting her chin on her shoulder.  
"I gotta leave something to the readers' imagination," Hunnigan nodded and tilted her head to the side when Helena began to trail her lips over the side of her neck.

"Mm-hm, well, it's better that way, I can't have you spilling my secret moves to everyone…"  
"I'd need to write a separate book just for those alone," Hunnigan laughed quietly, closed the laptop and reached to put it onto the nightstand.

"Wanna get started on the first draft?" Helena smiled and moved to straddle Hunnigan's lap. She put her arms around her shoulders and pulled her closer.  
"Chapter one, hundred pages of foreplay."


	10. My Space

**Author's note: This is the response to "Let's move in together." (Hunniper)**

* * *

Sunlight filled the bedroom with a gentle rose gold glow and Helena smiled as she slowly began to wake up. She moved closer to Hunnigan and pressed herself against her back, tucking her legs behind Hunnigan's and nuzzled into the back of her neck.

"Your bed is my favorite place in the world," Helena murmured quietly and leaned to nibble Hunnigan's earlobe softly.  
"Mine too," Hunnigan said sleepily. Helena tugged on her gently and she turned to face her.

"Mm, don't, I have morning breath," Hunnigan muttered and turned her head when Helena tried to kiss her.  
"You're ridiculous," Helena chuckled, gently gripped Hunnigan's chin and kissed her. She rested her palm over Hunnigan's cheek, cupping her face and deepened the kiss slowly. She slipped her leg over Hunnigan's hip and nudged herself closer.

"Quite frankly, I wouldn't mind tasting your morning breath every day," she grinned after breaking the kiss, resting her forehead against Hunnigan's.  
"You like weird things," Hunnigan smiled a little.

"I like you, does that make you weird?" Helena quipped.  
"Probably," Hunnigan admitted and turned to lay on her back, covering her eyes with her forearm to hide from the sunlight.

"Okay, but what I meant was… let's move in together."  
"You just want to use my bed," Hunnigan smiled.

"Well, can you blame me, it's super comfortable."  
"It should be, it cost a fortune," Hunnigan said and sat up. "I'm gonna take a shower," she then said and exited the bedroom. Helena exhaled deeply and slumped back in the bed, completely aware of Hunnigan having completely ignored her suggestion.

* * *

Hunnigan loved Helena, she truly did, but the mere thought of having her around all the time was, quite frankly, terrifying. She didn't mind when Helena spent the night or stayed over for a few days in a row, but she didn't think she could handle having Helena there every single day. She was used to being alone and at this time she wasn't sure if she had it in herself to share a home with another person, even if that person was someone she really loved.

She couldn't stand it when Helena did something as minor as leave her coffee mug into the sink rather than put it into the dish washer; the mere idea of Helena being here to constantly leave her things lying around or misplacing Hunnigan's belongings made Hunnigan cringe.

Sighing, she exited the shower and pulled her bathrobe on, still trying to think of some way to let Helena down gently. She had noticed the younger woman dropping hints about possibly moving in. She'd casually suggested leaving a few items of clothing and maybe her toothbrush so that she wouldn't have to hurry home in the morning or bring an overnight bag every time she stayed over. She'd also made a comment or two about how it would make sense if she had a key to the house so that Hunnigan wouldn't have to always be "on call" to come answer the door whenever Helena headed out for a smoke or to the corner store for something. Hunnigan had managed to brush off the suggestions merely by behaving like she hadn't understood the hints Helena had been dropping, but that was hardly an option now.

"What are you doing?" Hunnigan frowned when she went to the bedroom to get dressed and discovered Helena sitting on the edge of the bed, tying the laces of her boots.  
"Balancing my checkbook," Helena scoffed, "what does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting out of your hair."

"I thought you were staying for breakfast?"  
"Yeah, well, you know, figured you might prefer being by yourself," Helena shrugged in fake-nonchalance which did nothing to hide her hurt.

"Helena, that's not…"  
"Don't worry about it, I think you've made your point very clear," Helena interrupted, got up and grabbed her backpack -the one she had to bring if she intended to spend the night because God forbid she leave her clothes at Hunnigan's.

"For the love of… I don't want you to go," Hunnigan sighed.  
"You don't really want me to stay either," Helena said and shouldered her bag.

"I haven't said that, I just need my space now and then which is why…" Hunnigan began to explain, realizing just how much it sounded like a pathetic excuse despite being the truth.

"Excuse me for wanting a relationship that is actually going somewhere. I would understand your hesitation and unwillingness to even discuss this if we'd known each other for like… barely a month, but we've been together for almost two years, Hunnigan. So… yeah, I don't think I'm being unreasonable," Helena scoffed and pushed past Hunnigan, exiting the bedroom.

"I never said I thought you were being unreasonable," Hunnigan said as she followed the other woman.  
"Yeah, no, you didn't, you don't need to say anything, but the message is pretty god damn clear. I'm going home. Enjoy your solitude."

"He—" Hunnigan began to say, but Helena was already out the door.

* * *

"Okay, but seriously, can you understand why I said no?" Hunnigan asked and Leon shook his head, raising his hand in the air and held up a finger to silently ask her to hold that thought until he'd finished swallowing his coffee.  
"Frankly, my dear, that is a subject I do not want to touch," he finally said and Hunnigan exhaled deeply.

"I don't want you to touch it, I want you to agree with me."  
"Yeaaahhh… but I kiiind of… don't. I mean, what would be the worst thing to come out of it? You'd have someone who'd help out with the chores and mortgage."

"I don't have a mortgage, I paid the house in full when I bought it," Hunnigan interjected and Leon rolled his eyes.  
"You know what I mean! She wants to share her everyday life with you and you're behaving like that's the worst possible thing. You can't possibly enjoy being alone that much."

"I enjoy not having to find seven different coffee mugs half full of coffee that Helena left lying around. I enjoy not having to rearrange my entire kitchen every day because she can't be bothered to put things back where they belong. I enjoy not needing to change the light bulb every five minutes because she forgot to turn the lights off before heading out for the day. I enjoy not finding my toothbrush wet in the morning after she's decided to borrow it!" Hunnigan ranted and Leon made a face at the latter statement.

"Let me guess, you're an only child?" he then smirked. "Either that or you were never taught to share."  
"I know how to share, but I need my boundaries respected. Having someone burst into the bathroom to conduct their business while I'm taking a shower or brushing my teeth is the opposite of respecting boundaries, wouldn't you say?"

"Why don't you just lock the bathroom door?" Leon frowned.

"I shouldn't need to because it should be obvious to anyone that you _don't just burst in when you know someone else is already in there!"_ Hunnigan explained in exasperation. How was this simple concept so difficult to grasp? She refused to believe she was in the minority with this.

"Look, it's not like I don't get where you're coming from, but at the same time, there are worse things than having to share a bathroom now and then," Leon shrugged one shoulder.  
"Oh, yeah? Like what?" Hunnigan challenged and Leon chuckled quietly.

"Well, to me personally, coming home to an empty house every night would be way worse. Going to bed alone would be worse. I can keep listing things, but honestly, I don't think there's anything I can say that would convince you, because these are things I enjoy. You, apparently, enjoy the opposite and would rather fall asleep alone than with her breath on the back your neck," Leon smirked, finished his coffee and got up to leave the room; he had made his point.

* * *

Hunnigan was on her bed, the computer resting on a wooden cutting board she used as a stand for it. She leaned her elbows to her thighs as she typed until the nagging ache on the muscle over her shoulder blade forced her to stop. She'd once again ended up slumping over her laptop rather than sitting up straight.

"Oh, wow, that didn't sound good," she commented to herself when she heard the various pops and cracks emanating from her body as she straightened her back and rolled her shoulders a little.

Hunnigan turned to look at her phone and sucked on her lower lip as she contemplated on picking it up and calling Helena. They hadn't spoken since Helena had stormed out over two weeks ago. The fact that Hunnigan had transferred Helena to another FOS agent to avoid possible conflicts of interest when their relationship had gotten serious had made it possible for Helena to avoid her even at work.

"Hey, it's me. Where are you?" Hunnigan said after Helena finally answered her call.  
"Just hanging out with Sherry; she's shorter than you, she doesn't need so much _space_ ," Helena said, her voice dripping with venom.

"Okay, I deserved that," Hunnigan exhaled and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Listen… we need to talk."  
"I know we do, but I'm not sure I want to have that conversation, because I know where it'll lead."

"So, you'd rather keep avoiding me and hope the problem goes away?"  
"No… I don't know. Okay, look, if you're gonna dump me, then… just get it over with," Helena sighed and Hunnigan frowned.

"I hadn't even thought of doing that."  
"Yeah? Well, it's kind of hard to tell."

"What the hell, Helena? You're the one who stormed out and hasn't even spoken to me since!" Hunnigan snapped.  
"What stopped you from calling me?" Helena argued. "I was waiting for you to make the first move for once, but of course, you didn't, because you were probably too busy enjoying your solitude and not having to waste your time on me."

"Oh, my God! I didn't call you because I thought you didn't want to talk to me!" Hunnigan yelled, then sucked in a deep breath through her teeth. "All right, all right, no, this… is a pointless discussion over something that was obviously a misunderstanding… right?" she then tried to calm the situation.

"I suppose," Helena sighed.  
"The reason I called is that I miss you, and I wanted to ask if you'd want to come over."

"You know I want to, but at the same time, I gotta wonder what the point of it would be."  
"There is no point other than I'd just like to see you and spend some time with you and maybe talk about this," Hunnigan muttered. "Truth is, I've been kind of miserable without you here to mess up my kitchen."

"That's kind of you to say, but I highly doubt it," Helena smirked.

"Well, okay, I didn't miss you messing my kitchen, but I do miss having you here with me. I've found it especially unpleasant to go to sleep alone," Hunnigan said. Like Leon had put it, she _did_ miss Helena's breath on the back of her neck when falling asleep.

"…all right, I'm on my way."

* * *

"What's this? A polite way of letting me know my breath stinks?" Helena quirked an eyebrow when she unwrapped the item Hunnigan had given her and discovered a toothbrush.  
"It's a gesture, smartass," Hunnigan smirked as she sat next to Helena on the couch. "It goes together with this, and the shelves I cleared for you in the closet," she then added and gave Helena her spare key.

"My, my, my, Ms. Hunnigan, are you asking me to move in?"  
"Well, as much as I'll undoubtedly miss having the option to kick you out when I need my _space_ …"

"Charming."  
"…I don't want you to feel like just a guest in my house, I want this to be your home too."

"So, does that mean I get to mess up your kitchen?" Helena inquired and Hunnigan sighed a little.  
"We'll talk about it," she said and got up from the couch, heading toward the kitchen.

"How about the toothpaste situation, can I squeeze it in the middle or will you have a bitch fit if I do that?" Helena continued her ridiculous questioning as she followed Hunnigan.  
"We'll talk about it."

"Then there's the whole 'I drink milk straight out of the carton'-thing, but I only do that when I'm hungover," Helena shrugged, turned so that she was facing away from the kitchen counter and lifted herself up to sit on the edge of it.

"I guess I'll just have to get used to all that, like you'll have to get used to the fact that I like to keep things organized, which means that I _will_ organize your stuff too whether you like it or not," Hunnigan smirked, grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and handed the other to Helena.

"Okay, not," she grinned and twisted the cap off the bottle.  
"And remember that I will still have a personal life, so there will be times I'll lock myself away into my study and blatantly ignore you just so that I can hang out with my online buddies."

"Which is fine, I can use the time to do the same, only I've got real life friends because I'm not an introverted nerd," Helena teased and Hunnigan scoffed, took a sip of her beer and exhaled deeply through her nose.

"So, how long is this trial run going to be and when will it become acceptable to fart in front of you?" Helena then asked in mock-seriousness.

"Oh, I think we passed that point when you stopped bothering to close the door when you're in the bathroom," Hunnigan scoffed amusedly.  
"Yeah, but at least I put the toilet seat down when I'm done, so I got that going for me," Helena said and Hunnigan laughed, shaking her head a little.

"You know, I think I've actually already gotten used to most of your quirks, so it probably won't be all that long before I ask you to move in properly," she smiled then and moved to stand in front of Helena, resting her hands on the younger woman's hips.  
"Well, I'm beyond trying to pretend I'm something that I'm not, and what would be the point of being together if we can't be comfortable around each other?" Helena shrugged and wrapped her legs around Hunnigan's waist.

"I know, and you're the only person I don't mind having around violating my boundaries," Hunnigan smiled and leaned to kiss Helena.  
"High praise indeed," she muttered into the kiss and slipped her arms around Hunnigan's shoulders, holding onto her tightly.


	11. Cherry bark and almonds

**Author's note: This is a response to "I fell in love with my best friend" for Cleon.**

* * *

Leon was late, but Claire didn't mind; she'd known he would be late. He always was. It was almost October, but the weather was still quite warm and sunny in D.C., Claire had expected it to be rainier. Since the opportunity was there, Claire had taken a seat outside on the patio, enjoying the sunlight and the crisp air. Claire finished the coffee she'd gotten while waiting for Leon and headed inside the coffeehouse to get another. She glanced at her watch and decided to order a coffee for Leon as well. He should be here soon, he was almost never more than twenty minutes late.

"I am so sorry," Leon apologized when he finally arrived and took a seat at the tiny round table.  
"It's okay," Claire assured with a smile and slowly slid the coffee she'd gotten for him across the table.

"Thank you," he said as he accepted the mug and took a sip. Just like he liked it, not that it was difficult to remember how he liked his coffee: black.

"How are you?" Claire then asked, and Leon shrugged one shoulder a little. There wasn't much to tell... other than things he didn't really want to talk about any more than Claire probably wanted to hear it. The constant fight was her life too, this was a day off for them both.

"I've been okay. I finally got that bike I was telling you about. I was thinking about taking a little road trip next summer, you should come with if you have the time," he smiled.  
"Sounds fun, I'll keep that in mind," Claire nodded. "How's Sherry?"

"She's doing great, she makes an excellent agent. I think she's currently on protective detail somewhere in Norway," Leon answered.  
"Good for her! Any interesting office gossip?" Claire then inquired with a grin and Leon chuckled a little.

"Well, let's see. Hunnigan divorced Thomas."  
"Really? That's a shame, they made a good-looking couple and he seemed like a nice guy. Granted, I only met them once at that Christmas party, so I guess I wouldn't know really," Claire commented and took a sip of her coffee.

"Yeah, well, she had a good reason," Leon said, and his devious grin made Claire frown a little.  
"Go on, you obviously know something more and you're just dying to tell me."

"She's dating Helena now."  
"Triple-H?" Claire's eyebrows rose, and it was Leon's turn to frown as he tried to understand the connection. He didn't think Claire was referring to the WWE wrestler.

"Oh, it's a silly nickname Sherry and I came up with. Triple-H as in HotHead-Helena," Claire elaborated, and Leon bust laughing in the middle of taking a drink of his coffee, ending up blowing a generous splash of the beverage onto his face.  
"Yup, same woman," he confirmed, wiping coffee from his face with a napkin.

"Well, that _is_ news."  
"Oh, but I haven't even told you the best part yet."

"There can't possibly be more to that."  
"Hunnigan's pregnant and Thomas is the father, but he doesn't know, and Hunnigan doesn't intend to tell him because he never wanted kids, so I'm assuming she's intending to raise the baby with Helena."

"Wow, you're more into office gossip than I thought," Claire remarked with a smirk.  
"Nah, I just hear things because Helena tends to forget that the radio frequency we're on isn't exactly private and she gets chatty with Hunnigan when it's quiet during a mission," Leon explained.

"Anyway, that's about it, nothing very new or exciting. What about you, what's up?" he then asked.

"Nothing much to report here either, I spend most of my time just working. I don't go out on field assignments very often these days. I don't know how, but I kind of ended up stuck in an office doing the boring paperwork because after the incident at Sushestvovanie island, someone had to take over Neil's job, and it ended up being me since I knew my way around it. But honestly… it's a headache. Give me a zombie any day over that," Claire sighed, and Leon chuckled quietly.

"Yeah, zombies at least can be shot, paperwork is forever," he said.  
"Exactly. But yeah… I guess I shouldn't complain, at least it's been relatively quiet recently. Well, since June anyway."

"True, let's enjoy it while it lasts," he said, raised his mug a little and she clinked her against his to toast the blessed boredom.

* * *

"You've lost weight," Leon said after eyeing Claire from head to toe as they walked toward her apartment after stopping at a grocery store to pick up snacks and drinks for their "booze, junk food and movies"-night.  
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Claire laughed, glancing back over her shoulder and quirking an eyebrow when she caught him staring at her butt.

"It is, you're looking far too skinny," he replied bluntly. "I'm just worried about you," he then defended his words when Claire glared at him.  
"Well, to be honest, it's been kind of a rough year, I guess the stress does that," she sighed and linked her arm with his as they walked.

"You gotta remember to take care of yourself rather than always just save the world, you know," he said.  
"You're one to talk," she teased with a smile. "But, at least now I can eat excessive amounts of chocolate without having to feel guilty about it," she then added.

Fifteen minutes later, they were in Claire's apartment and had set an assortment of sweet and salty snacks on the coffee table, a cooler filled with ice and beer underneath the table so that they wouldn't need to get up and go to the kitchen for drinks. In other words, everything was set for the perfect lazy evening.

"I couldn't remember the name of this movie for the life of me, but then I saw one of the actors in another movie and Googled him, and voilá," Claire said as she dramatically whipped out a VHS cassette. She put the tape in the machine and handed the cover to Leon.

" _Short time_ ," he read the title, "seems interesting."

"Yeah, Chris still had the tape, I remember him showing this to me when I was a kid. I didn't understand what was so funny about some of the parts I recall him laughing at, maybe I'll get the jokes now," Claire said, sat on the couch and grabbed the remote.

Leon regarded her amusedly when she became obviously somewhat frustrated as she browsed through the TV's settings, trying to find the correct input for the VCR. She hadn't used the machine in ages.

"Here, let me."  
"I've got it!" she scoffed at him and yanked the remote further from him, cycling through the settings one more time and finding the right input.

Once the movie was finally playing, Claire grabbed the bowl of popcorn and placed it onto the couch between herself and Leon so that they'd both have better access to it. He didn't seem all that interested in eating though and rather grabbed a beer from the cooler.

Claire recently hadn't had a chance to spend as much time with him as she would've liked, but the few times they had hung out, she'd noticed he did tend to drink a lot. The fact that he never really got drunk despite the copious amounts of alcohol he consumed spoke volumes of his tolerance being rather high which in return told her he was used to drinking a lot and often. She didn't think it was her place to comment since it wasn't any of her business and she didn't judge him; on the contrary.

If all the things he'd gone through hadn't left any marks on him, she would've been more worried than she was now. The cracks and tears in his shell were visible and at the end of the day, that was a good thing. They made him human. The pain made him human. She supposed it was ironic that she was glad to see he still felt something while simultaneously wishing she could've erased the hurt.

It had only recently occurred to her that it had been over fifteen years since they'd met back in Raccoon City. During those years, she'd come to realize that he was the one person she'd always been able to rely upon, even more so than she'd relied upon Chris. He was the protective big brother, but at times that meant he made himself disappear to protect her and contacting him could be a challenge. Leon, on the other hand, was more available.

Claire admitted that it was mostly because Hunnigan wasn't above blatantly violating protocol and relaying a message to Leon even when he was on a mission if Claire asked, whereas the B.S.A.A. agents outright refused to do the same under any circumstances since doing so might possibly compromise the agents on duty. Claire couldn't really blame Chris for that, and she never had. But the fact remained that Leon was the most reliable person in her life.

"What?" Leon asked when he noticed she was staring at him, and she sat up straight, shaking her head a little.  
"Nothing, I was just thinking, and I realized you're my best friend."

"Well, I can say the same about you," he smiled, leaned back on the couch and crossed one leg over the other, stretching his arm over the backrest of the couch. Claire moved the bowl of popcorn out of the way and scooted closer to him, raising her feet onto the couch and leaned to rest her head on his chest, wrapping her arm around his midsection.

"…everything okay?" he asked quietly and turned his head a little, resting his chin on the top of her head, lowering his arm a little so that he could put it around Claire's shoulders.  
"Yeah… yeah, I just… can I stay here? I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?" she asked, and Leon frowned a little at her oddly serious tone of voice.

"You're not, and you can stay there for as long as you want," he whispered and kissed the top of her head before turning his attention back to the movie, raising the beer bottle to his lips and taking a long sip.

Claire had stopped paying attention a while ago already. Apparently, she probably wouldn't find out what Chris had laughed at so heartily way back when today either. She closed her eyes, the sounds from the movie fading away in the background as she concentrated on the sound of his breathing and the liquid splashing quietly in the bottle of beer as he drank from it once more. He chuckled softly and silently, the only thing giving it away being the way his abdomen seemed to recoil as the amusement erupted from him subtly.

Claire couldn't say how long she'd stayed there, just enjoying the feel of having him close to her and the warmth radiating from his body, but evidently it had been long enough for the movie to end. Leon moved slowly to grab the remote from the coffee table, his movements careful as if he was worried about waking her, obviously not realizing she was awake. He stopped the tape and hit rewind, the familiar but nowadays so rarely heard sound of the machine whirring as it wound the tape back filling the room.

Leon began to flip through the channels, the fingers of his free hand finding their way to softly stroke the nape of Claire's neck and gently tug on strands of auburn hair as he spun them around his fingers. Claire swallowed hard at the warm touch but didn't say anything or move, she didn't want him to stop and she worried he might if he realized she was awake.

She found herself almost desperately wanting to slip her fingers underneath his shirt and feel his bare skin against her own. She wanted to straddle him and put her arms around his shoulders, sink her fingers into his hair and pull him to herself. She wanted her chest pressed against his chest. She wanted to taste his breath, kiss him so hard it might split her lips, feel his stubble sting her face as she did. She wanted the same furious passion fueled by adrenaline and the need to feel alive that she'd felt with him once before, shortly after Raccoon City, at an abandoned cabin where they'd taken shelter to rest for a while. Funnily enough, the only one taking a proper rest at the time had been Sherry, who'd fallen asleep almost the moment her head had hit the pillow.

They'd never spoken of it since then, and Claire had run off to search for Chris almost immediately after. She still didn't think Leon had ever forgiven her for that. But she didn't regret it, not even after everything she wished she would've done somewhat differently.

She'd never told him she loved him. She'd never told him he'd been her first. What would've been the point? Every time they'd ran into each other since then had only strengthened her belief that she'd made the right call by not telling him.

Lately, however, they'd begun spending more time together, doing delightfully ordinary things like having a coffee and chatting or going to the movies. Despite everything Moira had said while teasing Claire about Leon being her boyfriend, her relationship with him had always been just friendly, platonic… aside from that one time over fifteen years ago.

But now, things felt different. Claire had given herself the permission to cautiously begin hoping that maybe they could both just lead normal lives, at least for the most part. And if they could do that, maybe they could be together like this more often, only not just as friends.

Claire inhaled deeply through her nose and shifted a little on the couch. His close presence had caused a red hot blade of arousal lash through her, the exquisite ache cascading through her insides and pooling between her legs causing the pressure she felt to grow from deliciously sweet into something almost unbearable. It was a pleasant ache for now, but she knew it wouldn't last unless it was dealt with or unless she could figure out a way to convince her mind and body to switch it off and shut it down. The fact that she could _feel_ Leon looking at her didn't do anything to help her. It was all she could do to not just tilt her head back and push herself upward a little and capture his lips into a kiss. Claire bit her lower lip.

 _He knows. Oh, my God, he knows,_ she thought even though the odds of her being right were ridiculously low.

"Are you all right?" Leon asked, and Claire sighed a little at the genuine concern she could hear in his voice. Somehow that made him even sexier right now.  
"Yeah, I'm fine," she said and sat up. "I've gotta use the bathroom," she then excused herself and got up.

She locked the door behind her and undid the buttons of her jeans, shoving them down her legs and stepping out of them. She then removed her underwear, folded them and used them to wipe off the excess slick wetness that had already soaked through the fabric.

 _For God's sake,_ she scoffed internally. She recalled once overhearing one of the more mature women at the office mention that once you hit your thirties, you can't even get wet like you used to. Apparently, that wasn't something Claire was suffering from despite being a few years past the magical thirty years-milestone. Either that or the woman who'd said it had never been with the right guy since turning thirty herself.

Claire put her jeans back on and splashed cold water on her face, pausing to lean against the sink and sighed, taking a long moment to just stare at the water drops slowly falling from her chin and into the sink. It helped very briefly until an errant thought rammed through her mind like a runaway train.

 _I want to fuck him._

She'd spent more time than she cared to admit bitterly masturbating to the fantasy of slowly making love to him with gentle, quiet passion, but right now, she really _did_ just want to fuck him. She wanted him to throw her onto the bed and ravish her, she wanted to feel his weight on top of herself and his thick meaty cock inside her. She wanted—

"You okay in there? I'm not usually one to rush someone in a delicate situation like this, but I kind of need the bathroom myself, beer flows right through me," Leon called out from the living room, his words followed by a warm chuckle. Claire cursed under her breath, threw the wet panties into the laundry hamper and shut the lid of it before exiting the bathroom.

"All yours," she told him happily and went back to sit in the corner of the couch, reaching to grab a beer as well, staring at the TV but not really caring about the antics of the sitcom-characters displayed on the screen.  
"Leon, we need to talk," she finally told him once he returned to his seat.

"Uh-oh, this can't be good. For the record, I'm not an alcoholic, I don't go to any meetings," he tried joking and Claire smirked slowly.  
"You should consider going, but that's not what I wanted to talk about."

"Well, in that case, what's up?" he said and turned to sit sideways on the couch, bending one leg at the knee and sitting on it, leaning his side against the backrest of the couch.  
"For the past fifteen years you've been the constant in my life, the most reliable person in my life… and you have no idea how much I really needed you after escaping that island, and how much it meant to me that you actually were there through thick and thin."

"Of course I was going to be there, you're important to me," Leon interjected quietly.

"You didn't have to be, but you were, and I can't even begin to tell you how grateful I am of that. Like I said, you're my best friend, and you have been for a long time. And recently I've come to realize that… I fell in love with my best friend," Claire said, her voice softly quieting toward the end of the sentence, but Leon heard her loud and clear.

"Oh. Well. That's…"  
"I know, probably not something you wanted to hear, I mean… the whole time I've known you, you've been quite the ladies' man," Claire smirked, and Leon chuckled awkwardly.

"Ah, not really, it was mostly just… a young man's unnecessary bravado," he confessed.

"Still though, you're a flirt, and I don't think you're the kind of a guy who'd even know where to begin settling down, so I'm not even gonna suggest that. I just… I had to tell you, even if it might ruin our friendship… which I hope it won't. But the reason I had to tell you is because I know I'd feel… guilty for being so close to you and secretly enjoying it a lot more than you'd think."

"Well, that doesn't sound ridiculous at all," he said sarcastically.  
"I know, I know, I never claimed it made sense," Claire chuckled and exhaled deeply then, shaking her head a little.

"Claire…" he whispered and scooted closer to her, reaching to take her hands into his own. "You have to have known that I've always loved you."  
"I… did not. Why would I have known? As I said, you were always flirting with practically anyone who had a pair of boobs."

"Yeah, well, it never meant anything serious… which is why I've never flirted with you. I can joke around and be flirty with anyone else because it's just a bit of fun, but it would actually mean something if I did it with you, which is why I never did. I was afraid it would hurt."

"I don't think you would hurt me."  
"I wouldn't, at least not knowingly… but it wasn't you I was worried about, it was me; I was scared it would hurt me."

"Leon… likewise, I wouldn't hurt you."  
"I believe you, but you're the only one who really could… and that's what scares me," he said, his voice growing somewhat hoarse.

"I'm sorry, but I have to kiss you," Claire said and gave him barely a second to react before reaching to put her hands onto his cheeks and pressing her lips onto his. He quietly breathed her name into the kiss, his arms instinctively wrapping around her and enclosing her into a tight embrace. They remained there for a long while before Claire rose to stand on her knees on the couch and Leon gripped her hips to stop her from moving off the couch.

She quirked an eyebrow at his reaction, but the realization dawned on her when she noticed the intense way he was staring at her crotch which was conveniently almost directly at his eye level leaving Claire with very little means to hide the fact that the fabric of her jeans was noticeably darker where her wetness had soaked through. She offered him a lopsided grin and shrugged on shoulder a little. Leon grinned back at her and brought his hands up and slowly began unbuttoning her jeans. He pulled them halfway down her thighs and leaned forward, his hands still firmly gripping her hips.

"Leon…" Claire inhaled sharply when he slid his tongue slowly over the sensitive flesh, tilting his head back and moving his hands lower to possessively grip her ass, silently appreciating the firmness of it. He pulled her to himself tighter so that he could slip the tip of his tongue deeper and let it tease her entrance before slowly curling his tongue to gather up as much of her taste as he could.

Claire moaned his name again, sinking her fingers into his hair, her hips swaying back and forth in sync with the rhythm of his tongue, her movements becoming more insistent and he enclosed his lips around her clit, lightly sucking on it and grinding his tongue against it in a slow pattern. He wouldn't have minded staying there longer, but Claire balled her hand into a fist, softly tugging on a handful of his hair and pulling back from him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and Claire had to stifle a little laugh; he looked so confused, but what really made him look somewhat comical was the way his chin and upper lip were glistening with wetness.  
"Nothing. I just want a lil' sumthin' else…" Claire explained then and kicked her jeans off before moving to straddle his knees, lowering her hand down to stroke the growing bulge tucked into the left leg of his pants.

"Who you callin' lil'?" he smirked quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, honestly, if memory serves me right, you're anything but lil'…" she trailed off with a smile and raised her arms up as he pushed her shirt up and tugged it off of her, doing the same to her bra, too impatient to bother undoing the hooks. She leaned back, exhaling deeply and closing her eyes when he trailed his lips over her breasts, the feel of his stubble gently scratching the sensitive skin surprisingly pleasant.

Finally, she practically ordered him to take her to the bedroom and he was more than happy to oblige, tightening his grip on her, carrying her across the room and onto the bed. He eagerly undid his pants and got rid of them while she shifted on the bed to a better position, turning onto her back. She didn't say anything, she simply parted her legs a bit further and that was all the invitation he needed.

* * *

Cherry bark and almonds. Leon would've recognized Claire's scent anywhere. For the longest time he'd been certain he'd imagined it, but the more he'd thought about it, the surer he'd become of the fact that Claire had smelled of cherry bark and almonds even during the hell that had been Raccoon City. A city filled with zombies, gore, fires and smoke, and somehow, that girl had managed to walk through it smelling like something incredibly sweet. Realistically, he knew he was exaggerating a little and that time had painted his memories with sweet shimmering gold, but her scent was what he remembered the best of that day.

Never had he ever imagined he'd one day get to wake up in her bed, the scent of her perfume and her body clinging to the sheets and pillows, its comforting familiarity surrounding him and filling him with pleasant warmth. He slowly opened his eyes and smiled.

Claire lay on her side next to him, her head on his chest, her arm around his midsection and her leg resting over his waist. She was still asleep, the sunlight seeping in through the pale curtains tinting her with a gentle rose gold glow. Leon trailed her eyebrow gently with the tip of his index finger, slowly sliding it over her cheekbone, along her jawline and to the tip of her chin. He then moved to softly grip her chin with his thumb and index finger, leaning in to kiss her lips. She responded to the kiss sleepily, tightening her grip on him and hummed happily, a brilliant smile rising to her lips.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" she then inquired.

"Next to you, who wouldn't?" he smiled back and kissed her lips once more.

"Flatterer," Claire chuckled and snuggled into the side of his neck. "Can we stay here for like… the rest of the day?" she then asked in a tired, soft mutter.

"Believe me, there's nothing that would make me want to get up," Leon replied, kissed her forehead and nuzzled the top of her head, once again inhaling the sweet scent of cherry bark and almonds, or as he'd just come to call it, "Red". He closed his eyes, breathing her in and sighed happily, realizing that this was the first time in his entire life that he could say he genuinely knew what it meant to be truly content.


	12. No time to cry

**Author's note: Angsty Ada/Leon that started from the idea of Leon running into Hunnigan at a grocery store and spying on what she's buying.**

* * *

"I ran into Hunnigan at the store today," Leon said as he lay on his back on the bed, one hand crossed behind his head, the empty bottle of Jameson sitting on the bedside table, abandoned alongside with the shot glass he'd not even bothered using after the first three or four shots.

"And?" Ada asked over her shoulder. She sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down to grab the zipper on the side of her boot and tugged on it, closing it before turning her attention to the other boot.

"And I looked into her shopping cart and she had stuff like broccoli and potatoes and some fish and other stuff like that, I think she was gonna make mashed potatoes."

"And?" Ada asked again, buttoning up her shirt. She doubted Leon was telling her about this just for fun, she refused to believe they were that desperate for topics of conversation, and frankly, the contents of Ingrid Hunnigan's shopping cart made for poor post-pillow-talk.

She had noticed Leon spoke often of Hunnigan. A lesser woman could've gotten jealous. But, it wasn't surprising he did that, he was the godfather of her child and frankly, Ada was convinced Leon was vicariously living a family life through her since starting his own didn't seem to be an option. Deep down, Ada assumed it was partly because of her; Leon was holding a torch for her and ignoring other opportunities even if they were there. She refused to feel guilty about it. She hadn't asked him to wait for her. She would never either because she knew there was nothing more she could offer to him no matter how long he waited.

"And I got so envious. There she was, just… buying some healthy stuff, probably gonna cook a nice meal for her family, and there I was with a bottle of whiskey and a frozen pizza."

"How much do you want to bet she's having this same conversation with Helena, only she's complaining about how you get to have all the fun while she has to go home and feed her family?" Ada countered with a smirk, them both knowing the odds her of being right were very low.

"When I was younger, I always thought that at this age, I'd be buying potatoes and broccoli and going home to a wife and a kid, you know? Or I'd imagined I'd at least have my shit together, but I don't," he muttered. Ada sighed internally and stood up. She'd hoped she would be able to slip out of the room before the drunk-train Leon was on would go around the bend and he'd go from happily drunk to miserable and sickeningly remorseful over the wasted time.

Ada could be a lot of things if need be. She could be sly, she could be a very convincing liar, she could be confident to the point of convincing herself to believe in her own bravado, but there was one thing she'd never been able to bring herself to do and that was to outright lie to Leon. She'd withheld things, kept secrets, but never lied. Not even when she could tell that all he wanted to hear was a comforting gentle lie.

"You believed that even after Raccoon?" she asked him instead of offering the comfort he was fishing for.

"For a while, I did," he confirmed and sat up, leaning his back against the headboard and bending one leg at the knee, resting his arm over it. "I used to think that there was hope for a normal life, but obviously, that didn't turn out how I'd thought it would."

"Things rarely do," Ada agreed and shrugged her jacket on. She knew he was hoping she'd share something about herself like he just had, but he knew better than to directly ask. Even if she'd wanted to share, she didn't think there was much left to tell as in she barely remembered who she was anymore underneath the layers of Ada Wong.

Her memories were little shards and glimpses that surfaced every now and then but were never enough to complete the puzzle. She remembered training in gymnastics as a child, but that memory got immediately mottled with the assassin training and drowned into it. She remembered the sight of her mother's hands as she spread correction fluid over a piece of paper, but that was all; just the image of her hands moving and holding the tiny brush. She remembered her father liked to sing, but she couldn't recall what he sounded like. No faces, no voices, just disembodied fragments.

In a way, it was comforting. She knew she should've felt more bothered by the lack of memories, but she didn't. What would she need them for anyway, they were a weakness, likely to hold her back, distract her. She couldn't afford that. She couldn't afford naïve fantasies about what could've been had things been different. What was the point of what ifs?

"Hey," Leon said softly and got up, reaching to softly touch her arm as she'd turned to leave. He was still undressed, the smears of their combined bodily fluids slowly drying onto his skin and pubic hair, making him uncomfortably sticky. He hadn't had a chance to shower and he'd known better than to try inviting himself to join Ada when she'd taken one.

"You won't even say goodbye?"

"I never do, you know that," Ada smiled nonchalantly, her hand already on the doorhandle as she prepared to make her exit.

"I guess I do," he confirmed quietly and squeezed his hands into tight fists as he struggled to keep himself from pulling her into a hug.

Sex was easy, it could be casual, sometimes downright meaningless; genuine affection and such gestures as hugs were off-limits, she wouldn't tolerate it from him. Not even if she knew she would've enjoyed it. If she'd let him close enough for that, the walls would come down and before she'd know it, she'd be buying broccoli and potatoes. She shuddered at the mere thought.

"See you around," she smiled, cupped his cheek for a second and exited the room, not looking back and knowing he'd remain standing by the door for the longest moment hoping she'd change her mind and come back. She never had and never would, no matter how bad the hollow ache in her chest got with every step she took to get away from him.

But, as always, the pain would be temporary, it never had the time for much more than a brief visit before it would be shoved aside by the adrenaline and excitement a new mission would bring. No time to cry.


	13. Spice girls

_Author's note: This is a response to the prompts_  
 _"Don't be scared, I'm right here", and "what's cookin' good lookin'" (and make it about A cooking B hot food and B not wanting to admit she can't handle it, also keep the word count below 2500 words)._

* * *

Hunnigan knew she shouldn't take Helena's bravado seriously, but this time the subject had been so ridiculous, she couldn't let it go. Helena needed to learn a lesson. She needed to be forced into a situation where she'd need to put her money where her mouth is.

Out of all the childish things to argue about, Helena had fixated on Hunnigan's ability to handle her spicy foods better than Helena could. Granted, she'd been drunk and oddly insecure when she'd taken it upon herself to loudly and repeatedlty say she could eat habanero peppers for breakfast, and intellectually Hunnigan knew the argument hadn't been about one's ability to handle chili peppers, but right now, she was feeling a bit childish too.

"What's cookin', good-lookin'?" Helena asked sleepily as she scuffed into the kitchen wearing an oversized T-shirt and nothing else, her hair in an adorable mess. She paused to hug Hunnigan from behind before proceeding to grab a mug and pouring herself coffee.

"Habanero-cheddar waffles."  
"A what now?"

"Savory _spicy_ waffles. You said you could eat habaneros for breakfast, so I made breakfast including them," Hunnigan elaborated, knowing perfectly well Helena wouldn't be able to handle it. She could barely handle a cored jalapeño without making a face.

And that was fine, Hunnigan had never understood Helena's pointless need to keep proving she's the toughest bitch on the planet, especially not when her attempts of proving it included juvenile boasting about insignificant things like being able to consume spicy food. It had nothing to do with toughness as much as it had to do with just what one is accustomed to.

Hunnigan did admit that one of the most charming qualities about Helena was her ability to go from responsible and mature to reckless and childish as a teenage boy. It made her interesting, there was never a dull day when she was around. But, sometimes, Hunnigan could've gone without the childish competitiveness.

"Cool!" Helena smirked and went to take a seat.

 _I'm sure this counts as spousal abuse,_ Hunnigan mused when she handed Helena a waffle she'd prepared, the piece of food looking deceptively harmless. Helena managed to get a few bites in before the heat visibly hit her.

"It's really good with honey too," Hunnigan said as she poured some on her waffle and watched Helena struggle to keep from getting up and chugging a gallon of milk. She pretended she didn't notice Helena was in trouble.  
"Yeah? Can I take a taste?"

"Sure," Hunnigan said and offered her a piece of her waffle, knowing perfectly well Helena was asking only because she wanted to make sure Hunnigan wasn't cheating; her waffle was made with the exact same recipe and from the same batter as Helena's, but Hunnigan wasn't profusely sweating and turning red the way Helena was.

Helena soldiered through the entire waffle before she had to admit she couldn't take it anymore. She hurried to the fridge and grabbed the milk, hastily trying to get the lid open while simultaneously shaking open a bag of white bread. She shoved a piece into her mouth and washed it down with milk. Hunnigan didn't comment, instead, she continued eating her breakfast.

"Oh, my God, it's not helping," Helena groaned as she took hissing breaths and doubled over, resting her forehead against the kitchen counter.  
"Grab some peanut butter," Hunnigan suggested and Helena scrambled to do that.

"Why did you do this to me?" Helena hiccupped, her face red and glistening with sweat.  
"You said you could eat habaneros for breakfast," Hunnigan reminded her.

"Well obviously that was just some of the famous Harper hot air, you should know better than to take me seriously!" Helena coughed and ran her hand over her face. Her eyes were watering and her nose was running, the veins in her forehead bulged like she was straining.

"My stomach hurts, I feel like I'm melting from inside," Helena groaned and ran a hand over her upper lip. "Oh, God, I'm bleeding," she then exclaimed when she realized there was blood running from her nose and not just snot.  
"Okay, hold on," Hunnigan said, went to Helena and rubbed a circle on Helena's back with her hand. She then reached to open the freezer with the other and pulled out a pint of ice cream.

"Are you serious?" Helena scoffed in between hiccups.  
"Trust me," Hunnigan smiled and Helena dug a spoonful of ice cream from the pint. "Better?"

"Well, that does kind of help," Helena said and wiped the snot from her upper lip. "Sexy, huh?"  
"Hot. Literally," Hunnigan smirked.

"You are such a bitch," Helena laughed and took another swig of milk.  
"You know what they say, you hurt the ones you love," Hunnigan shrugged nonchalantly.

"Mm-hm, come over here and give me a kiss," Helena then said and puckered her blood, milk and snot-covered lips while leaning toward Hunnigan.  
"Oh, God, no!" Hunnigan mewled and ducked the attempted kiss, taking a few steps away from Helena.

"You're gonna have to make this up to me some way," Helena narrowed her eyes and Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow.  
"Why, you got what you deserved."

"You exaggerated," Helena argued and went to rinse her face at the sink.  
"Clearly, so did you when you said you could handle the peppers," Hunnigan said. "Speaking of that incident, are you gonna tell me what the real problem was the other night?" she then asked and Helena blushed again, this time out of embarrassment.

"You could down whiskey without making a face, I couldn't, Leon remarked that your figurative dick is bigger than mine, and it snowballed from there."

"So, let me get this straight-ish. We're lesbians."  
"Yes."

"One of us, namely, you, is actually repulsed by dicks."  
"Yes."

"And you're upset because my imaginary dick is bigger than your imaginary dick?"  
"Yes."

"How is... why... I don't understand how that's even a scale you'd measure something on!" Hunnigan said in exasperation.  
"I didn't say it makes sense! I turn into a stupid teenage boy when I get drunk! And all I wanted was to live in the belief that I can eat more chili peppers than you can, but you just couldn't let me have that, could you," Helena pretended to sniffle.

"No, because I like my women without imaginary balls."  
"That's not gonna be a problem, you've officially castrated me," Helena smirked.

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of your balls, I'll have them stuffed and mount them on my desk," Hunnigan said and Helena burst out laughing at the mental image.  
"I still think you owe me for turning me into a snotty blubbering mess," Helena then said and put her arms around Hunnigan's waist, pulling her closer.

"Oh, I do?" she quirked an eyebrow. Helena hopped up to sit on the counter and put her legs around Hunnigan's midsection, held her face in her hands and leaned to kiss her deeply.  
"Mm-hmm, definitely," Helena smiled into the kiss. Hunnigan slid her hands under Helena's shirt and raked her fingernails over the long muscles of Helena's back.

"Is there anything in particular you had in mind?" Hunnigan inquired, slowly running her hands down along Helena's ribs and over to the outer sides of her thighs.  
"I'm not sure... you might have to put those nimble fingers of yours to work..."

"I could do that," Hunnigan said huskily and slipped her hand between Helena's legs, running her fingers lightly over the labia, slowly adding a bit more pressure, rubbing the soft flesh gently.

"Oh, God."  
"Already?"

"Oh, God, Hunnigan!" Helena gasped but it was becoming clear she was not doing so because she felt good.  
"What?" Hunnigan frowned and pulled back.

"It... it... oooh my God, it burns!" Helena yelled and got down from the counter.  
"Crap, I totally forgot I handled the peppers with bare hands!" Hunnigan exclaimed when she realized what was wrong.

"If I find out you did this on purpose, I will pepper spray your pussy while you sleep! Oh, fuck it hurts!" Helena shouted as she dragged herself into the bathroom.  
"It was an accident! Here, sit on this!" Hunnigan said and handed Helena the pint of ice cream before Helena agitatedly slammed the door shut.

* * *

"I'm sorry I behaved like a stupid boy and got us started on this unholy path of pepper-related mayhem", Helena apologized.  
"I'm sorry I fed you habaneros despite knowing you wouldn't be able to handle it," Hunnigan apologized as well. They were quiet for a long while and Helena pursed her lips, reaching to run her fingers through Hunnigan's hair.

"...that's it, you're not gonna apologize for essentially pepper spraying my pussy?" she had to ask then and Hunnigan chuckled.

"No because that was an accident and if I hadn't done that, it never would've occurred to me to lick ice cream from there, so you have to admit, it was a happy accident," she said and turned to kiss Helena's cheek before settling back to lie down, her head resting on Helena's chest

"I'd want to argue with that, but I can't really, so I guess we're even."  
"Good. And the next time you feel like you need to show off your imaginary big dick, just challenge me to arm wrestle you, it'll hurt you less."

"Not if you win."  
"I don't think I can win with you sometimes, you're such a baby," Hunnigan teased.

"I'm not a baby!" Helena argued and pursed her lips into an exaggerated, childish pout. Hunnigan laughed and put her hand on Helena's cheek.  
"Who's the baby? You're the baby!" she said and patted Helena's face softly.

"God, don't ever do that again," Helena scoffed and swatted her hand away.  
"I won't if you stop acting like a kid," Hunnigan smirked.

"All right, full disclosure? Like, honest adults would do?" Helena then muttered.  
"Tell me."

"The reason I was so upset the other night wasn't... it's not that I want to 'top' you at everything, I just... what Leon said... how I heard it... I mean, I know he didn't mean to insult me, I've never taken him for someone who would hurt someone's feelings just because."

"What did he say to you?" Hunnigan frowned.

"I don't remember his exact words, but what it sounded like to me was that everyone thinks you're way out of my league. And they're not wrong, but it still hurts to hear it from people I thought were my friends."  
"Wait, what? What are you talking about?" Hunnigan asked and rose to lean on her arm to be able to look at Helena.

"You're the smart successful one, I'm the screw up from the bad side of town. Then he made the comment about you being better than me at everything, and I'd already had one too many at that point and... we know where that all ended going. I know how stupid and immature it all is, but it really hurt."

"Helena, why does it matter what he allegedly thinks?"

"It doesn't, but I agree that you're too good for me, and I'm scared. I'm scared that tomorrow you'll wake up and realize you're wasting your time with me. Or maybe you'll meet someone who's equally smart and elegant and has dignity and... manners, and...can eat chili without turning into blubbering mess," Helena listed and Hunnigan sighed.

"Don't be scared. I'm right here," she whispered and leaned to kiss Helena. "And I'm not going anywhere. I promise."  
"I believe you... I just get stupid and insecure at times," Helena said into the kiss.

"Hm... what could we do to make those insecurities go away," Hunnigan pretended to ponder and Helena quirked an eyebrow.  
"Well, you could start texting me reassuring words of your undying love every hour," she grinned and Hunnigan chuckled, shaking her head a little.

"Naw, I'm too lazy for that. We could just get married," she suggested nonchalantly.  
" _You_ want to marry _me_?"

"Why wouldn't I? We've been together for over three years, some people get married after three months. I think it's about time one of us asked."

"I've wanted to ask but I never thought you'd say yes," Helena mumbled.  
"I would've, in a heartbeat. So, what do you say? Will you marry me?"

"Yes, I will marry you. But you're gonna have to ask me again in front of Leon. I want him to see that _you_ asked _me_."

"Were you always this insecure?"  
"Not until I started dating the smartest and the most beautiful woman on the planet."

"I shouldn't be as flattered by that as I am. I love you, Helena."  
"I love you, Ingrid, and I'd eat a handful of the hottest peppers for you any day."  
"Let's save that for our wedding night."


	14. Look, Hunny, no hands

_This is a response to the prompt "Helena embarrassing Hunnigan at a restaurant"_

* * *

"What?" Helena sighed when she noticed the stare Hunnigan gave her. Hunnigan inhaled but instead of speaking, swallowed her words and shook her head a little. This was their 10th anniversary dinner, she felt like she should just let it go. She would've too, but unfortunately, Helena had already noticed and had thus decided otherwise.  
"I know that look, what did I do now?" she insisted. Hunnigan considered denying it and shrugging it off, but she knew her wife better by now. Helena would not rest until she knew.  
"You are using your hands."  
"I'm eating a friggin' pizza, this is how people who were raised right eat pizza," Helena narrowed her eyes.  
"And were you raised in a barn by any chance?"  
"No, a bowling alley."  
"Helena, just forget it, I didn't..." Hunnigan began to say but had to stop when she saw Helena nudge her pizza a little so it sort of drooped over the edge of her plate.  
"What are you doing?" Hunnigan frowned but Helena didn't answer. Instead, she picked up her plate and raised it to her mouth, taking a bite of the pizza's edge that was hanging over the edge of the plate. When she'd eaten all that she could reach, she bit in and dragged more of the pizza over the edge and toward her mouth.  
"Really, Helena? Really?" Hunnigan scoffed.  
"What? I'm not using my hands!" Helena proclaimed with her mouth full, the corners of her mouth and her cheeks smeared with a reddish tint left behind by the tomato sauce. Hunnigan remained serious for a moment only before cracking and dissolving into uncontrollable giggles.  
"This is why I love you. You're the only person I know who would do something like this instead of just agreeing with me or caring about what others think."  
"I know, it's beautiful, isn't it?" Helena smirked, her voice laced with some sarcasm, but Hunnigan nodded.  
"It truly is because you don't give a good God damn what others think and that is so refreshing. Keeps me on my toes, keeps me interested. Thank you for having been here for the past decade to do that for me. I love you."  
"I love you too, and here's hoping I'll find ways to embarrass you for decades to come."


End file.
